53.

dirty hair against my
shoulders, and I am dancing
naked in the bathroom
shower water running

I have spent all morning
reading someone else's
words, and I am ready to
bathe in echoes of you
of you of you of you

it is not about the sex.
the pair of legs with which
I walk down your spine
are tired, but
they do their best.

it is about the touch
the feel of
your door as it closes
and the smile across my
ragged teeth

I hear a swelling sound
an approximation of you
and the things I am afraid of
and the things we could learn