As the second hand slips
When you’re coming to grips
In a thrilling ecstatic last gasp,
The spasms are treasured,
The nerve-endings pleasured—
An easy, yet hard thing to grasp.

If only the wife
Could surpass this in life;
Transcending mere conjugal motion:
This private emergency;
Slippery urgency,
Panting in private devotion.

On the hot stroke of one
It’s a second to none
Passing minutes on high alert.
When all prudery ceases,
The tension releases:
Alone, as you ready to—

PROMPT #22:

write a poem about something you’ve done that gave you a kind of satisfaction,
and perhaps still does.