The sparkle of eyes, the cherry of lips,

Your subtle “come hither”, the sway of your hips,

The swell of your breast stokes up passionate fires;

The flash of your thigh fuels my primal desires.

I’d love to undress you with wild abandon

Throwing your clothes all around;

Shoes scattered, tights torn and dresses all crumpled

In piles and heaps on the ground.

But you’ve got this “OCD thing”.

You fuss about crumples and creases.

If your clothes are not folded and all neatly stacked

I can see you start going to pieces.

So I ease off your watch and I place it just so

(Along with your brooch and your bangles).

Your necklace with care I lift over your hair

So as not to leave too many tangles

I remove both your shoes - and I place them precisely

I help with your jacket - then hang it up nicely.

Item by item, smoothing each one completely,

One by one I remove them – and fold them up neatly.

I’m yearning for us to spend passion-filled nights

But it takes me ‘til midnight untangling your tights.

But when all’s done and dusted and you’re fully undressed

(I’m hoping it’s not just your clothes you like pressed)

When finally, finally, everything’s done –

It’s time for us now to engage in some fun.

You’re panting, you’re eager, you’re raring to go,

You’re keen to start undressing me!

But don’t get your hopes up of passion tonight

You’ve still got … my OCD!

Could you fold those socks, please … ?

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