We’ve been kissing till our lips are chapped
And happy, our eyes hypnotized from a gazing-fest
That out-stared the sap in their sockets.
Too long we’ve lain with sex on the brain
And the groin–oh, the groans!–we must stop it.
We need to rest, shut up, get dressed,
And see if the blue world still rolls outdoors.
Sore as a sigh, we depart on our lark,
Creaking weak keisters to the car:
The movies, the mall, or Seaside Park?
We drive until five on our dutiful tryst
And ask: Did a longer day ever exist?
We laugh as we dash madly back to bed
Where we align half-divine and (half the time) head-to-head.