His Shirt

The sound of water, spraying
Echoes that are surrounded by marble and glass
With steam rising
The sex still lingering
A room left disheveled
The flesh, deviled
Raw to the core
Recreating porn
The Internet would crash
In a flash
The pounding that rocked
The headboard hard
His look, when he thrust, soft
The look, when she mouthed, oh!
Silently at first until her voice caught up
With a wooing moan
As he howled
The flash in his mind, Exploded
Then, Silence
To the count 5
The door opens releasing steam
As he penetrates the cool air
The room lit by the Suns stare
They both marvel at the sight
Of an Angel wearing
His shirt


2 thoughts on “His Shirt

  1. OMG LOL! No, not at the poem, that’s hot! What are the odds that we used the same exact picture 15 minutes apart… too funny.

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