We sat in bathtubs in rundown motel rooms
I told him stories of my mother
He told me he'd never been in love
I noticed his uneven breathing
The way his chest fell a little faster
The way his eyes didn't have much glimmer
The faucet was dry
The bathtub was empty
We floated anyway
On broken promises
Taunted memories
Unspoken names
I saw every drop of blood
I saw every tear
I let him rest his weariness on my lap
I poured my attention into his flaws
Crooked teeth
Lopsided chest
The way his forehead wrinkled
Those were the things I remembered the most
When he left
I never loved him
He never loved me
But it was close
And it was tantalizing