Really knowing me

Sweating like two seasoned lobsters, we
Lie back in the watery maelstrom.
Bubbling and belching, the convulsions
Splash merrily on noses and eyes,
Great geysers of fomenting turmoil
That liquify brooding joints and bathe
Protesting muscles in amber steam.

And still, she doth know me completely.

Jacuzzi suffused, the pampering
Minefield explodes in a thousand jets,
As the subterranean air streams
Rise and break through the surface, gurgling
In a thousand archaic voices,
A vortex of erupting steam bombs
That seem to seethe and hiss volubly.

And still, she can tell me I’ve farted.