on a good day, we can kiss and it makes us ravenous for eachother. tongues and fierce hand holds making us violent. you can pick me up, my legs wrapping about your waist, and hold me there. it makes me feel small and wanted. protected. i know you won't drop me.

today is not one of those days. i won't go to him. and it won't occur to him to come to me. i hear the trappings of a sandwich from the next room. the static of bread being taken out. the clank of a jar of mayonnaise on the kitchen counter. the same counter we've fucked on. but i know you're not thinking of that now. and even i will stop soon.

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