My Loving Wife

The flow of our bodies begins to harmonize

A chorus of grunts and moans crescendos


Urged forth by her begging eyes

Our symphony climaxes behind fogged windows


The concert of no audience has ceased

With A lapse in kisses allowing air to our chests.


I play with my mirrors and seat

As my bandmate buckles her belt and rests


The key is turned and without time for encore,

Our theater races towards her home


A final nightly kiss, and she dances toward her door

The production over, I head towards my own


With a single peck to the cheek, I greet my loving wife.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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