i turn to face you,
having just had you
lolling in the sleeping afterglow
but you're not beside me
you're inside of me
hovering just centimeters over me
wrapping warm my body
in your silk blankets,
a heartbeat swaddled.
when did you start to love me so much?
weren't it just yesterday
you had me clinging to
ceramic tiles for any sense
of comfort while my
insides were spilling out?

i suppose i always
asked for a lover
as complicated as this.