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.