The Way We Were

The Way We Move

A sway of the hips,
a little interesting.
A seat on their lap,
a little more.

Lips on one’s cheek,
faces all rouged.
Hands in their hair,
Necks all bruised.

Fingers caressing
every line and curve,
as I patiently wait for you
to build up enough nerve
to ask for what you want.
I want to share what I’ve got!

Just remember to ask,
because I’ll have you know,
consent is sexy, but
only green light means go.

 

The Way We Slept

In each other’s arms,
groped by the other’s figure.
We were closely intertwined,
but we never rested long enough to close our eyes.

 

The Way We Touched

Your arm stretched out across my shoulders.
Your eyes looking at me.
You want something.
I want to share,
only difference is, you don’t ask.

 

The Way We Breathed

The hearty laugh of a honeymoon phase
where all jokes seem funny.

The taste of cigarette on my tongue
as we breathed in each other.

The cold clouds appearing as
we glided upon the ice.

The gibberish that escapes a mouth full of grass.

The short puffs of air as
we violently play in the sheets.

The sudden intake of breath when
we began to fall apart.

The heave of a chest full of salty tears when
one whispers, “I don’t love you anymore.”

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