POEM - Blissism

I bet you finger my name in your phone

just before you use them to probe

your own snug ache

I suspect you whimper my simple name

under your dreamy breath while in

your marital bed

And I imagine you're wet all day

whenever the odds favor encountering me

along the path of your tired routines

  

I suspect you’d rather die this instant

than to live a hundred years without tasting

the key parts of my body

I imagine you’d eat my wife all night

so long as it earned you the right to me

penetrating you, come morning

And I bet you would try stealing her man,

even if all you set out to do in the beginning

was borrow him for a little while

I imagine you’ve started feeling old,

and rightly assume I could return

that lost vitality

I bet your outfits now need more time;

that you’ve begun taking pains to be seen

like bedroom eyes at the front of my mind

And I suspect you’re running out of the will

to keep yourself from saying that you’re ready

to give me everything she both does and won’t

  

You see, I know the look of a boiling point

And you… are almost screaming steam