It’s 2am and we’ve spent six hours watching documentaries about suicide
       and the air begins to taste cold
    so we cross over through the living room
               into the shower where the warm water burns
                        our feet and I complain about how badly
                                                           my back has been hurting.
         Your hands find their way to my
                   shoulders and you kiss my neck as
                                 my features feel love tenderize their
                                                   toils and at first they flinch,
                     at the new, but still
                                                   surprising touch,
                       but soon my soul is wrapped around your
                                                                                     fingers and
                                        suddenly it doesn’t hurt and
                                                       suddenly it’s not the worst and
                                                                somewhere in all of this I’ve stumbled onto the shower floor and my back is still sore and then
                                      suddenly I look up and see your face.
                              You smile at me, fondly and
                                             I smile back at you.
                                    You reach out your hand,
                                                             lift me up.
    Your hands are back at my shoulders,
           Your lips follow my neck.
                  You spin me around and kiss me,
                       “I love you, don’t ever forget.”

Published by Charlotte Griffiths