I imagined your hips in my hands,
and I imagined I had it all under control.

I stared at your lips when you spoke,
you pretended not to notice.

I stared at your *** when you walked away,
and your hips swang methodically, enticingly.

Public intoxication, two nights in the county jail, 500 dollars in court fees and fines, and the feel of your breast on my palms.  These are the things that haunt me.
You haunt me.