Purple And Brown

The door swings open and I smell her neck
Everything’s the way she left it
The little one’s not here
His shoes rest on a brown towel by the window
Elmo’s still sitting on his blue present box
But the brown blanket is still on the couch

Her computer’s still on
Leftovers are waiting to be eaten
I don’t want to hit the books, but I wish I could kick them

Her room’s still warm
The sheets alive in the shape of climax nine
Matching last night’s second kisses
The cotton smells of perfumed hair and the oil I rubbed on her back
Inebriates me into a stupor where she’s mine all over again
The soft caress of her thighs next to me
Blinded by tiredness, her lips join with mine
I am home


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