You kissed me in a car. You kissed me in the coffee shop. You kissed me at my doorstep. You texted me good night. I texted you good night.
You kissed me in your basement. You kissed me in a red dress. You kissed me between your sheets. You kissed my naked skin. You kissed me to stay. You texted me, “I wish you’d stayed.” I texted you, “me too.”
You bought me three red roses that I hated but pretended to like. You wore the green sweater that I loved. You bought me a used book with yellowed pages. We slept in your bed more often than not.
We ate Thai take away on the floor in your room. You laughed at stand up much too loudly, as I looked on and smiled. I kissed you with fervor when I had too much wine. Your hand found every crevice when you smoked more than you should. You always asked me to stay.
I left. We can make this work. We didn’t try hard enough.
I took up baking. You had sex with someone else.
I was back in the Spring. We went to the movies. You kissed my neck in the dark. You walked me home. You told me you loved me. We ordered Chinese and had sex in the kitchen.
You kissed me in the dark. You kissed me long and hard. You kissed me in the morning when the light was reflecting on the wall. You kissed me at the door. I texted you, “I love you.” You didn’t text me at all.