last night i slept with him.
it wasn't intimate -
at least, not in the way one might expect.
it wasn't skin against skin,
the way some think it should be.
it wasn't soft conversation -
(why am i the little spoon? because you're short as ****, that's why)
it wasn't kisses slipped between drowsiness.
last night i slept with him.
i didn't know he would be there;
as we crawled into bed, i settled down beside him
a familiar feeling
that i had forgotten.
brushing back hair, kissing the top of his head
all things brought back from long ago.
you know i missed you so much
but i didn't until i woke up the next morning
n.j.p; missed you. this poem is coming up a few days late.