two months of you felt like a single exhale
lost in the wind
like a sustained eye contact from that beautiful girl walking past
too short to fully appreciate
long enough to think about all day

we slept a bit less
to taste each other a bit longer
I daydreamed the days after
with bags under my eyes that safely kept memories
of your mustache tickling my nostrils while we kissed
of my tongue painting desires on the canvas of your skin

you felt like a book too good to be read
hypnotized from reading between the lines
of what was left unsaid
I wanted to devour thirty-one years' worth of chapters
in a single night

we are strangers
who happened to find each other interesting enough
to do a cross-over of a few lines in our stories
you let a stranger dip her toes in your ocean
of dreams
fears
vulnerabilities
and I’d dive in headfirst
no tuba
if I’d ever get the chance

I’m tattooing this paper
to render the ephemeral indelible
the evidence of an I knew a girl once
who liked the way I gently bite my tongue when lost in my thoughts
who liked the way I laughed like a character straight out of Dazed and Confused
who wrote me a letter to tell me
that I was someone worth writing a letter to
worth remembering
worth missing

thank you
for this brief time
for making me feel respected and desired

I remember you telling me once
that I should not thank you after sex
I think you misinterpreted it
as thanks for the good dick down
when I meant
thanks for making sex
not a simple transaction
devoid of intimacy
but a moment that I’m grateful
to be sharing with you