breathing in the night
the heaviness
created by our four lips.

we creep forward
and back
and up to floor 4.


you'll buy a couch
and
i'll walk with a ghost
on a crisp August afternoon
out east and down south.

craving the intimacy
less than a day old.


and i'll smile
this smile

born from the thoughts of
your hand on my thigh
and
the sound of you whistling
and
the way you look at me
when

we're making up.