in bed i
imagined a
secret.
conjured some
quiet scene where
the taste of alcohol
didn't linger on our tongues.
instead we became one,
here,
clad in skin
almost transparent.
and we couldn't
stop.
and we wouldn't
stop.
and sleep didn't come easily
for me.
but we knew.
and now my hair smells
of borrowed shampoo
and secrets
left unsung
instead of you.
i am
content with
everything this is.
No comments:
Post a Comment