“Are you happy?”, he asked
and I replied
“I don’t really do happy.”
What turns you on?
Being adored. I want to be adored.
Then later, heavy and full of the taste of each other, he said
Do you feel adored now?
He kissed me behind the kneecaps. Whispered with hot breath, I missed you
and my mouth dried to
the touch of him
and I was never so sure of anything
more than I wanted to be a part
of his whole
I wanted to be the light
that burned, deep down in the places
we save for the really
truly terrible things we’d do
when we’re hungry for love.