By Emma Levy
His friends call him “The Cold Fish”
But I’ve felt the warmer waters.
Under the surface you taste alkaline/
Above you taste temporary.
Come to me, Baby
His friends at home call him “Tiger”,
He growls, I lick, he grins.
Night time imaginings replace sleep,
Lucid dreams of the night before,
Delicious flutters of anticipation
– Sharp squeezes.
It’s not fair, he says,
Head on my lap on the downward spiral.
Headphones, low groans,
His friends at home call him “The Wanderer”,
He calls me the reason to stay.
Two minutes fast, one day ahead
“To the last full day together”
Too much expression in one look.
Wrist to wrist; Eye to eye; Mouth to mouth –
Can I kiss you?