I want to fall into the room with you,
pulling at our jeans and tee shirts
until we’re in nothing but our
white cotton underwear.

I want to forget about light switches,
cell phones, and my breathing.


I want you to have trouble with my bra,
fingers clumsy with the clasp.
You’ll mutter Jesus Christ,
and I’ll smile against your lips.

I want you to tangle your hands, in my curls
and I’ll spread my palms across your back,
mapping from your shoulders to your ***.

I want to run my hands down your
chest and see if your stomach tenses
when my fingers meet your boxer band.

I want to know the noises you’d make,
and see your face, when we fall together
into your twin bed, in nothing.