The Catholic woman

She picks up the red lace

with a coquettish smile,

looking forward to another night

of chaste cuddles.

Her fiancé struggles in his own skin.

His erection pulses

for the hundredth night.

Contented, she dreams of a white dress

and a dozen children.

“How sweet life is,

and how sweeter still

death will be,” she thinks.

“Why bother with progress

when God made the world so perfect?”

She gazes at her wooden crucifix.

Jesus’ eyes stare down

into her bosom.

“Gosh, this whole chastity thing

is rather tricky” she thinks.

“And if it really is too hard to wait,

there’s always the hole

that God can’t see.”