Your hands clasped at the base of my spine
Tears drop down to our chests, collide with our heartbeats
Dreams play catch with our breath.
In our throaty words, wrapping around each other,
Syllables curl up inside one another – warm.
Goodbye – your hair is falling into my face
Your skin is hot and soft against my lips
Your prose tip-tapping staccato on my eardrums
A slow dance in the laundry pile
With you in your pyjamas and me
in yesterday’s frame of mind.
