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.
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.
Such enjoyable imagery! It’s fun, and rare, to find myself laughing while reading poetry. Thank you for the comical vignette 🙂