It is done
And we lay in each other's arms.
Catching breaths, sighing deeply.
He will kiss a path up my spine,
Lay one more on my shoulder and hold me.

And for a moment we are more.

Then he comes back to himself,
Remembers who he is, who I am,
And what we are not.

We will do that awkward dance,
A laugh, a silence that lasts a beat too long.
Depending on how the night started,
I will either roll over to my temporary side of the bed
Or slip on denim and wish him a good night.

On the way home I will think
Of who he is, who I am
And all that we are not.