Sensory Overload

The taste was slightly salty when I kissed the dampened neck.

I smiled at tangy sweatiness and murmured, “What the heck?”

The smell was dimly murky as I smelt the pheromone.

Our exercise had woken just a hint of musky tone.

The rhythmic sound of rustling as our clothing moved around.

I heard a heavy thump as something heavy hit the ground.

Despite the chill I felt, my hands were ruby red, aglow.

We’d come so far, my tight held grip relaxed as I let go.

Relieved, I saw the bed with tailgate open. We’d laid down

our heavy, brown old cabinet to cart it into town.