—after years of marriage
Some of it made sense, the air pedals
wired to the head clamps for instance. The spindle
that had to be waxed after every turn.
But the inflatable unicorn gave way to concerns.
And how were we to run the extenulator
to experience the bliss of the fribbets
without a commercial license? How would we juice
the spangler without alerting the cops?
The sex toy’s warnings glowed in the dark—
do not use near an open flame, may cause vertigo,
should not be inserted backwards. Then my wife
plugged the lithinodes into the sleeve;
the sex toy danced aggressively on the dresser
with little regard for safety or space.
It challenged the thought
of a self altogether. “What the hell
are you talking about?” my wife said. Experiments
that discover pleasure strip language to a moan.
We still don’t know all its settings. Thankfully
we can say the same of each other.