why I started laughing like a maniac mid-fuck

I remember the tab on my tongue,
and you
in the middle of taking me;
I remember feeling the pinkness on my back
spring up, telling the trail
of your fingernails -
and just sighing,
like the sun was from a long summer soak,
not a far-off golden voice we heard through the blinds
hissing of a winter soon to falter and die!
You had the window open.
That was kind.

My arms were my pillow, and you
were behind,
going fast, and meaning it,
grunting I love you.
Of course I replied,
busy smiling
and stretching my pupils miles wide.

Boyfriend bliss behind me,
blue sky for a mind;
my arms seemed not to be mine.