The rhyme was easy
The meter was simple
All we needed was the title.

Whispered words in the night
Loops traced on restaurant napkins
A soft sound against my neck.

A burst of thought during lunch break
Scrolling through lines on a screen
Or the rasp of pages between dry fingers.

The title eluded us
A distant, provocative idea whose
Promise tasted sweeter than its journey,
But whose demand pulled at our stomachs
In an endless tug-of-war.

It was one a.m., he had garlic and
***** and toothpaste breath and I
Coughed and mumbled and
Shoved him away when he
Gasped and prodded my shoulder,
Excited feet making the bed shake.

Somewhere between my "*******"
And "goodnight, sweetheart" was the
Soft caress, the tickle on the back of my neck
That wormed its way into the
Corner of my brain
A white film that slowly seeped behind
My eyelids-
"Reginald"

Reginald
Reginald?
I sat up, I turned, I stared at him until
He opened one smoky eye and watched me
Watching him.

And then I laughed.
And laughed.

And that's why we named you Reginald.