A bit of frivolity:

At every texture, from every angle,
looking for any little signs of wear.
Are the ones stuffed in the middle mangled?
Deciding takes such incredible care.

Are you firm and ripe, fluid and luscious?
Are you too eager? Are you withholding?
Choosing the other, how will you judge us?
Two trollops intertwined every morning?

None of this strictly is necessary.
Utilitarian views eschew your
undulating rubies of luxury,
but the heart embraces your shape and more.

Did you grow the skin of sickly white green
as quickly, or did you keep your sheen?

(oops. Left an editing mark in there… Removed.)