You’ll like my wife

by John Boland

That’s what you said, and I did.
The quaint mole up where the thigh
met the drenched tangle of hair,

the sheen of soft fuzz in the curve
of her lower back, the musky smell
as I bowed into her secret self,

these were all much to my liking;
also the way she’d crouch over me,
the better to gobble me down.

You’ll like my wife, you said,
she’s bright and has a fabulous
sense of humour. That, too.

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