You say it can’t exclusively be sex
we write about – you give those words to me
above a flood of big X little x
between our sheets of toned typography.
But I inside reply to you: why not?
Impressed to fit together, we’re too old
to be platonic and we neither got
the habit of relating self-controlled.

I say let’s yank the covers lover down
to where they’ll form a cushion on the floor.
You’ve ravished me with adjective and noun;
now play redundant verbs with me, explore
in lust and trust we’ll open deep and wide
to plumb the sweets we quarantine inside.