Post Coitum Tristis

You did not meet my expectation
But then I knew you never would;
No single part of all creation
Matches my imagination -
Nor ever could.

Of course our midnight celebration
Confirmed the tenets of my creed:
That joy lies in anticipation,
Thought provides the delectation -
And not the deed.

But all the wonders of sensation
That roam the channels of my brain
Do not survive on cerebration;
They need an act of consummation -
Now and again.
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