Yes, I have bought you a wedding dress big enough for the two of us
And in the taxi home
we kiss a mint from your mouth to mine

The landlady might've noticed
a drizzle of stains on the sheets—
angels could do it more neatly,

but they don't. I climb your
underwear, my ass
is smaller than yours!

But you are two fingers more beautiful than any other woman—
I am not a poet, Sonya
I want to live in your hair.

You climb on my back, I
run to the shower,
slipping, a mess of water on the floor—

I watch you stand in the shower
holding
breasts in your hand

two small explosions.