POST-NUT PROSPERITY

Erin Murphy

Echoes of sex still fresh in my belly,
I roll onto my side.
Curled up like a woodlouse
and safe in our dampth,
I rock back and forth.

With lips pressed to my neck
you wrap around me.
My laughter is freakish
but you’re used to it now
and know not to stop.

Then everything mellows.
A quiet buzz seeping through,
I uncurl, stretch the feeling out:
Good hormones can’t be wasted
When you’re an oxytocin junkie.