We were both huddled together,
cuddled up on the love seat.
We were sharing some primary source of joy,
the title I can't recall now,
when she let out a frail sigh
and said
"you know, I don't really give a **** about being remembered,
I'd rather just be read now, at face value, and left at that."
Her admission was inspiring.
Faking headaches
and skipping class
to go back to my house,
everyone thought we were sociopaths but
we were just lonely.
To say she understood me
is an understatement.
After we put the book down
she insisted that a good kiss
should be vaccuous
and I said I didn't get it,
that's when she put her lips to mine
and enlightened me.
Like her bar of soap,
but dirtier,
I was bent on the curves of her body.
