I held you loosely beneath sheets
that should have been washed a week ago.
you rolled away in a dream,
and I didn't bother to try and coax you back
toward me.

Earlier that day we'd made some polite conversation
with a man on the street who
You knew a while ago.
And I stood there and smiled
(I know how dumb I looked, one of your friends
once said I had no personality--at first I was angry,
but thinking it over,
who could blame her).

Later you told me how your best friend died
and I watched you cry again, feeling terrible
and uncomfortable in my sneakers.
I think after we both mourned and I'd undone the laces
we might have gone out to get a sandwich,
but that could have been before.

When you rolled over and kissed me after the
lights were out it was hasty,
and our *** was too.
It was hard to see love in it.
(it was closer to relief.)

But I fell back asleep anyway, and didn't stir
until your dream made you roll back
over to me, and pull me close under your chin.

I licked the laughter off
of your lip
and bit your bloodied ear
while you told me you still hear them whisper sometimes.

So I sli--d my hand to your waist

We knew about the city scream outside,
the smog that creeps around every almost dream
and breathes gently into our lungs.

We could tell you matter-of-fact about the
week long drag and the people all bedraggled
making their last way back home.

We were somehow worrying that the sauntering
(So sleek! So stealthy!)
reality would ****** us away--since it does
and it does--

But instead you flicked your speech
quickly along my spine as I
Ahhh---ummm
Kissed your hip--
So divine!