Honey, I'm home

My luscious wife, thought pristine white,
Is wafting through the dark of night,
Which begs for just a bit of light;
Though cries still sweet the air.

A sudden clearing of the sky
Reveals a languid lunar nigh,
Just enough to deify
My hot, rapacious stare.

But damn that keyhole’s much too small,
And way to low. I’m much too tall.
I hope that I shan’t have a fall
And give myself away;

And hope that all that sticky goo,
From watching she and her taboo,
Doesn’t stain my goddamned shoe;
Unlike her negligee.