Paper Towel

She wrapped a paper towel
around his softened dick
in what he misconstrued was
mock affection; was it new,
an after-thought perhaps,
symbolic of her admiration?

She never really talked a lot
in bed – just let her actions
state her needs in ways he
understood without a cause
to be confused. He thought
she used him very gracefully.

When he asked what for she
said don’t worry sport, relax;
my period is here – now sure
its late but still its great relief.
Just lazy me’s avoiding need
to change the sheets today.

The revelation came an awful
shock which strangely pierced
him to the core; it dulled erotic
thoughts, quelled an urgency
to rise once more and romp
into the distant dawn.

She read his mind as such, held
him close, whispered that she
didn’t care that much about the
sheets. But now the paper towel
had tolled its mournful shroud
around his tethered soul.
© 1964, I.D. Carswell