His hands are static
livening burning trails of goosebumps across my naked skin
hand print after hand print
dragged through every drunken pore
I begin to let him in.
He breathes deeper than I remember
holds me closer than before
from the highs we used to offer
we've learned to offer more
I can smell his *** on my sheets
crumpled under the bed, now their at his feet
it's funny how this time it's so much easier to let him leave.