We killed the lights and found the way to each other’s lips like magnets who had been denied their center of gravity for awhile. You stripped me down, measured my sweet spots out in sugar spoons, and savored me like a treat you hadn’t had since you were a kid, all the nostalgia landing on your tongue as you molded me with your hands. My ribs pushed back then pulled again, like bread, underneath the covers. You whispered my name like a song you can’t let yourself forget the words to. I followed the map of your neck with my kisses, retracing my steps as we danced in my bed to the familiar sound of a tiny fan and the TV turned down low, the light making shadows on your cheeks as the screen changed, my eyes dodging them just to capture a clearer image of the face I dreamed and dreamed of again. You know my body
like a monologue, writing me all the way through, smiling at your favorite parts, and every time I fall into this routine I hope that maybe this ending is different, maybe you’ve decided to rewrite the last page. Maybe I won’t have to look back at our sour memories, maybe this time we will leave the bookmark in the same spot and kiss each other through all those times we said it had been too long.