He loves me
Fingers brush against cheek
Ever so gently
We stick from the heat
And you whisper "look at me"
He loves me not
She smells of vanilla
And home to him
But I told you
Sweet smells give me a headache
He loves me
I say no, but fingers prune
Branches that did not ask to be cut
And I moan anyways, because
It's easier
He loves me
He's sorry, my lips numb
Over, sucking on icicles subduing
Rug burn rashes from your
grasp
He loves me not
I fall asleep alone, in sheets that smell
of ignored provocation
And I taste you on my fingers
From where you bit at flesh,
Putting me in my place
Again
