Only been a week.
That was fast.
Together in silence
Sharing a glass.

Leaning forward,
Heads bent,
Not a word,
But listening intent.

Their mirror image,
Slender, white, clean,
Next to some sort of ***
Of some sort of cream.

She's late for work,
An underwear rush,
Waiting by the front door,
I hand her, her toothbrush.