LEFT BY OUR LOVE

I'm stripping our bed,
just-showered, naked,  
while you make your way  
into working day.  
 
Blanket I pull off,  
then top sheet I doff,  
sweep both to the floor  
like a matador.  
 
Undersheet's ruffled,  
where bodies tussled.  
I stop to reflect,  
memory's effect.  
  
On sheet, white as dove,  
stain, left by our love,  
remains in the day  
to be washed away.  
   
I smile with a glow,  
that our overflow  
has left evidence  
to sight and smell sense.  
   
At that poignant smell,  
I'm starting to well  
up down in my south.  
I cup nether mouth.  
   
Through fingers I drip  
at thoughts of your tip  
piercing my divide
as I got astride.  
   
A girl's gotta do  
what she's gotta do....
I yank off the sheet,  
it hangs to my feet,  
pooling on the floor,  
corner clutched to core.  
   
The seeping subsides  
like the ebbing tides.  
After reverie,  
sheet's in day's laundry.  
   
I put a fresh sheet  
on mattress complete,  
knowing it we'll stain  
when love's made again.