I'd rather be where you are.
I'd rather be held by rough hands,
pale fingers upon flushed cheeks.
Make me new again.
You're no stranger darling,
but you can be who ever you want for now
and I never liked my name until you hummed it
beneath blue sheets and bedposts.
I'd rather you remember us
by the way we tug and fumble
over belt loops and knit stockings,
over neck ties and shirt clasps,
over thin cotton and ripped lace,
over me
under you
under sheets
under moonlight
under ceiling fans and stars
under scrutiny and love is all we
understood and love is
under appreciated and
underrated and maybe now you're
under me and I'm
under your spell and I hope this never ends.

I hope it's never over.