your skin is not animated as I would have   imagined, a little
freckled, bespeckled with blemishes but I don't
mind those -- only the way your mouth is so pink after kissing me,
only how your tongue blooms from the back of your throat.

you don't     differ from
any lover in any specific way, just
the after, and how I don't feel
cold. no, just
calm.

I hear no thunder, see no storm slow approaching,
but rain hits the pavement I stand on, which in it's solidity
impresses upon me the urge to run  -   but I won't just yet