When you emerge from the tub, still dripping,
and streak into our living room, naked
and pink as the snout of a pig, your round
belly hairy and steaming, I know that
I am loved. I know that I am loved when
you stand beside our oxblood couch, where I
am curled beneath our dubious blankets,
writing emails or struggling with a verse,
and do your famous helicopter dance,
whipping your penis around in a loop
as though it were made of an orange, lodged
in the toe of a sock. It takes a lot
to make me laugh. I am prone to sinking
in deep waters. You lower the right ropes.

Rescue Mission By Bethany W. Po

Photo used under CC.