Our love is a filthy love

Our love is a filthy love
That spends the day wrapping
us in sweated sheets
Licking the juice from our faces
Before blearily delving under again
To burp sweet nothings into our navels

Our giggling desire bubbles
Within my slowly bobbling covers
And slaps salmonlike across our bodies
Threading through our thighs
Whilst I crumble lovingly
Against the poached egg of your morning face

And as the alarm clock bleeds into the floor
And the kettle chugs water over the worktop
And the Samaritans hammer on our front door
We link in stink,
stick and slicky for hours
And I think to myself that I’m glad I bought you flowers
Yesterday.