Epigraph: Children, the psychotherapist taught, play what they can’t say.

We visited Mom Sunday night
I was too lazy to go to Mom’s 
Sunday morning for Mass

Wait, that’s not quite true
I wasn’t lazy

Embracing midnight
Woody and I had made love

We also had intercourse
Which was fun and tender
Exciting and reassuring
As only intercourse in your 70s can be
“Look at me! My body still works!”

So orgasm was very good
But not worth that much 
Compared to making love
Strolling around each other’s bodies
Tasting the dark sweetness of our lips
Whispering those sweet nothings

I smile into my whispers
Knowing Woody
Too deaf to hear words
Hears the soft murmuring
Of my heart’s river
Flowing to him

So I didn’t miss Mass because I was lazy
I missed Mass because I was tired
And because
Woody was too
Delicious
Too divine
To leave for something as trivial as Mass