She said WRITE about me and it sounded like the way she said it translated to all caps
….LIKE ALL CAPS!
So I massaged my pen out of its dreary in motion to craft love out of whatever components compose ink.
Visions escapaded through my mind of his and her toothbrushes on the sink,
Her and his mugs in the cupboard… kissy face emojis with the left wink.
She’s been here through war and battle,
Saddle down ready to ride,
No spackle or foundation to hide the raw pores of our foundation.
Reaching across the thread count for my heartbeat, powder-fragranced chest fixation.
The primordial pillow, organic sleep number.
My tired heart beats relentlessly for her, almost like excuse the sweat on my forehead and obvious anxious approach but what’s your number? Again!
I needed it starred as the favorite in my #droid (hashtag necessary) contact list,
So I trusted the spirits of forefathers and married her and her foremothers then sealed the union with a kiss.
Femininity that excites my hidden atomic genius,
The Egyptian lion in me… I touch roots due to her proof, what rises is a real us.
After the ambers dim repetition easily sneaks in and makes love normal,
Formal experiences of fancy dress and fresh catch simmer to a slop; not abnormal.
Not unheard of but unacceptable to say the least.
Sexy engaging phrases and romantic touches become overused statements and nonchalant brushes let alone the beast.
To say the least…
Fiery blissful sex dissolves into formulated routines with step sequences.
Passionate embraces and aerobic positions transform into hovering and tiresome work.
At least we have hope, if all else fails we’ll always have recreational drugs.
We’ll always have facial expressions and excruciating gestures that function better than warning signs.
Mundane as the highlight of our centerfold in the comfort paradigm.