Ode To Us

I pulled a blonde hair out of your tank top

when I was tracing my fingers 

on your neck.

It was the morning after

we fucked on my couch

and you held me in your arms

as you slept.

When we woke early to the sun’s rays 

and birds chirping,

you found my body twice.

You dressed slowly after

and smiled complacently as you sat

at the edge of my bed.

Satisfied with yourself or me,

I can never tell.

Not ready for your departure

I reached for you instead.

I rubbed your back in longing 

for something true.

What I found was a woman’s hair

that I’m sure belonged to the one

you said never touches you.

I let the dead strand drop 

to my carpeted bedroom floor

not a word said

and continued to trace my fingers 

in the way that I know you like.

When you left I kissed you goodbye twice

and wondered curiously at the past few months.

You’ve changed the way you hold me.

More tongue in your kiss,

Kissing me more frequently during our visits.

Having learned me, your love is less selfish.

Your arms hold me all night,

and your snores come quickly

when months prior,

I would have been gifted

with just a few moments of affection

before your back turned to me in sleep.

But the blonde hair was in your tank top

nonetheless,

and you never call me pretty

which I find suspicious 

because you always gasp at my nakedness

and smile when I laugh.

Just the same,

you left that morning

and I pretended to be okay.

As the door clicked shut behind you,

I thought,

well love,

that’s it… our story

represented in just a day.

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