I miss shaving his neck in the shower.
It was my favorite thing to do because
a shaved neck
smoothed my canvas
of kisses and
bruises.

It was my favorite thing to do because
he was vulnerable.
He naked stripped
shamelessley
bare for me only,

until the day he made me realize something.
I was vulnerable in the shower too.

That morning his hand just wasn't enough.
Fresh wetted face from shower droplets
tears
and him

shoved me to the shower floor
subjected waterboarding, I thought
love was me shaving his neck in the
shower.

But love,
is me,
cowering,
on the bathroom floor,
casually offering my
inner chest's key
to his griping hand,
and his moaning throat.