in my shower.
You’re there in the passenger seat.
You’re in two places simultaneously.
Your head’s on my chest,
arms around my neck, fingers laced.
You’re in my headphones when “Cheers Darlin’” hits my ears.
You’re sitting on my lap.
You’re laying on your bed.
You’re climbing in and never leaving my head.
You’re at the top of my list-- the only name.
You run through my veins—
the only drug I want to take.
You’re the love that hurts, the love that saves,
the love that stains my tongue.
You’re the anger, the sweat, the out-of-breath.
You’re the “take your time.”
You’re every good word.
But you haven’t said your mine.