We own a black loveseat
I hear you wonder, “Do you still love me?”
There is no doubt in my touch
I pull you in, night after night
And we never drink alone.

Cup my face, hold my waist
I like the way you ask how I’m feeling

A record humming
Occupied guest room
And small swirls collecting in my chest
Our clasped hands knock down city lights
We take pleasure in the bursting sparks

Cup my face, hold my waist
I like the way you ask how I’m feeling

I’m happy at my day job
But I’m happier with you
You curl into me,
So I don’t wonder about the future.

And we never let go of the black loveseat


…Boston