I gave you a poem,
appropriately beautiful,
speaking in warm words
and soft images,

But you asked for another,
one that makes you blush,
makes your mouth water
and eyes glaze over.

Is 70 too old
to feel the urge,
a flash flood in the dessert,
swift, and so quickly passed?

Or is it a time to linger
in the heat, sand burning
the bottoms of your feet,
and round rocks roll
with the current 
of a slow moving stream.