I wanna love ‘til the lipstick rubs off
‘til I’ve got marks all down my back from your coffin-shaped claws
and yet the only thing lying dead on this here bed
is any leftover nervousness or cause for pause
we might’ve had
sprawled, entangled, and bare—body and heart
Covered only by star crumbs and moon shards
after we shook them straight out the sky, we loved so damn hard
On our first date I hadn’t expected it to feel like fate
To feel so right
So lived in
So favorite pair of jeans
So years in
So sagging sofa cushion
So non-stop smoochin’
So plate full of Mama’s cooking
With you, baby girl,
my soul is fed.