hand cupping my thigh
tongue against swollen lips as I kiss you,

your fingers thread through my hair,
tying us closer

an unlit candle on the
bedside table-the lamp
next to it, bulbous in shape, has no shade,
light from the bulb--
blinding until I focus my eyes over
your other shoulder

I still see him when we kiss-
when we touch, when you
tell those jokes,
unaware I like them because of the way his
mouth tilted upwards at the edges
when he told them

blankets a tangled mess,
bare legs swaddled in the sheets,
my ******* lay open,
exposed

you stroke a ******, the other; they rise to your touch

our bodies press, there is nothing
between us,
but there is no space to
breathe