Maybe
I had one hit too many.
That would explain
my bra on the floor
my hand on your chest
the heavy breathing
of your desire.
I can’t
you breathe out
between bites on my neck.
I know.
This is wrong.
I moan
as our lips fuse together.
Probably.

In my mind
I know better
than to listen
to what my body is telling me
in the darkness of your room
with the fire
of your skin
against mine.

In your eyes
is the expectation
of regret
and your lack of concern
as you
trace
the curves
beneath you.

But under those sheets
is the knowledge
that nothing will -
Nothing can
come between us.

Not tonight.