We spend nights in your room waiting for the first hint
to
drop.

phone
glasses
dress
jeans

my guard.
your reservations.

My fingers wound up in your curls.
Tell me what you want,
breathless,
I’ll whisper my own desire.

Our mouths, greedy,
Our hands, greedier.

My skin, raw from stubble and teeth.
Yours, marked where my nails sank in.

A secret passed between our hips.
A secret sealed by our swollen lips.
A secret held as we fell asleep,
surrounded by the soft scent of your lavender shampoo.