Every day I saw the same dead mouse laying on the pavement. There was nothing near to keep the sleeping creature company. It was alone and weathered by the weather.

For months, I let him lay beside me and **** the life out of me, like I was the only thing that could make him  breathe. My skin turned cold and there was nothing left to keep him warm. I didn’t want to die there.

I woke up one morning to see the mouse was gone. Maybe it was eaten by another creature or maybe somehow its little body found its final peace in the woods - where it could become rooted up underneath the trees and the moss.

I found a new resting place, somewhere near to you. And I could taste the blood on your lips when you pressed into me. My skin was warm again, like I was laying beneath the whole earth.
I thought this must have been how the  mouse felt when it found a way to leave it’s once unloved body behind.