Love in imperfection

Sex is glorified in poetry
Or so it seems
What of all the little indiscretions
Of which sex teems
 
Those moments that make us laugh
Like trying for a kiss
And bunting foreheads
Those times when sex goes amiss
 
Its those little moments
When the condom sticks
Those little silly moment’s
That makes my mind tick
 
When in mad enthusiasm
We slip near the ‘wrong’ hole
In those little moments
When satisfaction is not the goal
 
Those moment when
The lady let’s out a queef  
And when you go to kiss
But meet each others teeth
 
Those moments when foreplay
Has been under done
And entering is a struggle
But of lube there is none
 
When you throw her down
To crash upon the bed
Your idea of manly lust
Results in a sore head
 
Or when she climbs on top
Triumphant and victorious all
Queen upon her seat
Bar that knee that hit your ball
 
These are the things that stick
That make my mind tick
Not sex in perfection
But love in imperfection