My favorite moments are spent in darkness. Seconds spent sightless wrapped in a woman's embrace Eyes closed, breath held and lips pressed against an opposing pair. The hair of my mustache brushed past and tickled the top half of her thought's brim. She giggled and bit a little letting me nibble the bottom as her tongue dribbled to the middle. She became my phantom limb, rolling and waving on my whim and I, hers. As if I were sutures, she quivered like this moment closed wounds left by others. But I'm no doctor and she's no lover. We couldn't even see what we were doing to each other.