Pissing: Another Very Short Poem

Do you know those
Cold winter
Mornings,
When the darkness
Just begins to
Lighten
And your 
Breath
Rolls like a 
Fog bank
On the crisp air?

That’s the best,
(The very best)
Time to
Piss outdoors,
Just letting it 
Splash
Wherever it wants,
No hands.

You don’t even
Have to roll your
Foreskin back
(For better aim)
Just let it flow,
Warming your
Bunched skin
As it spills out.
Wonderful!

And the steam,
The steam,
The piss steam
As the cold air 
Meets
Your warm water.
What magic!
Droplets in the air,
Vanishing,
As the sky
Lightens
And the moon
Grows pale.

Then
Looking down,
A pool
Between your feet.
Final drops 
Fall
As you stand there
Shivering.
Almost like sex,
In a way.