About Her Business

Her soft,

fuzzy,

pink and brown socks

feel good to my hands

as I mate them.

Her jeans feel good to my fingertips

as I match them seam to seam.

It is 3:33

in the morning and it’s not that I have so much energy;

it’s that I can’t sleep without my Destiny.

Her undergarments

in shades of red, yellow, purple, gold and green

get special attention

as I line them up along the back of the sofa

next to my more muted ones;

and reminisce on the last time

I admired each one.

The last time I watched her strut

her sweet & sexy stuff

before putting a power suit on.

Memories and visions of her

are a blessing to behold.

I smile a smile that’s smug.

It’s like I’m getting over on the world

by stealing their best girl.

Even as Destiny travels the world.

Her pink,

heart-covered,

silk and lace nightgown

folds delicately in my hands

like she always does in my arms.

Like cotton candy folding

or better yet,

like taffy.

Destiny is thicker

and has better staying power

than cotton candy.

Destiny’s more

like taffy,

lingering sweetly

in my mouth,

and in my hands.

Across the open floor plan

in front of me,

the dryer and dishwasher tango

softly. Right now…

but the dryer will buzz soon.

I still haven’t figured out

how to turn the alarm off.

I still haven’t figured out

how to turn my rooting

for Destiny’s warmth

off.

How to not fall off

the bed

pulling sheets,

pillows and blankets

off,

as I roll over

to spoon with her like usual.

Like I did tonight.

Seeking Destiny in the moonlight.

Surely, I am safer

folding clothes and watching the dryer tango

all night and all day long.

Even if that means, I am sleep-

deprived

until Destiny comes home.