I'm leaning on the bed
sweaty and pumping away
when I'm jolted so hard
that I almost pull out.
"What the Hell?" I yell
as she turns around
making fearful eye contact.
My grip loosens.
I drop my hose and ask
if she realizes what she's done.
A blank stare says otherwise.
I resume filling 'er up
and let her drive away.
I've gotten good at that.
It's only a scratch
on my bumper
but enough flesh wounds
will bleed out the best.
Chivalry's not dead;
it's just drowning in pressed grapes.
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