It Poem by Phyllis Box

He keeps It carefully tucked away
And seeks It in time of need
I've watched him on several occasions
Meticulously indeed

He's doing It again!
The look of sheer pleasure on his face
As he slips It in its protective place
From afar, I wish It were me

Mmm! He's doing It again!
How soothing it must be
Is this the second time, no third, maybe even the fourth?
I've seem to have lost count

Why am I so fixated?
Oh how I wish he'd use me that way
I can be as comforting
Even more moist

Again? ! Really? !
It is driving me crazy
I must stay calm
Why am I so jealous of that darn Lip Balm!