I knew my way around your body
like I knew my way around the trains in this city,
which is to say,
with educated guesses, I could do OK.
I traced the Orange Line down your spine
with that same fragility like my first subway ride;
and as the train suddenly lurches I stumble, but act like it's on purpose,
hoping you don't notice just how secretly nervous I really am.
I remember the first time you slept in my bed,
(I think this was before I'd even bought my own tokens yet)
and I was scared,
I don't know why, weren't we way past this point by then?
...and the hours it took for me to run my fingers across your skin,
drumming along your ribs at maybe .5 bpm,
waiting for it inevitably: when you would say "go the fuck to sleep,"
and push me out of the bed,
or roll over away from me,
or just do nothing,
and wait for me to get the hint,
but instead we kissed.
I remember breathing in your hair
so deeply that for a moment I understood why shampoos had their
own aisle in the supermarket.
I understood marketing majors.
I understood brand loyalty.
