Come Home

Come home

 

I just want that moment again.

Your hand on my thigh,

your breath on the back of my neck.

 

But I’m not chasing you.

Instead, I’m having a bath in the dark.

The last candle died twenty minutes ago.

 

I’m waiting for you to come back,

like a good/bad character on a TV show.

 

You make me itch. My calves are red raw

This expensive bubble bath with cardamom and cinnamon

is eating at my sensitive skin and burning.

 

I haven’t closed the door and my clothes decorate the stairs

I’ve left the fridge open so if you come back, you’ll smell the pudding

I made this morning

and smile.

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