I love it when a man leaves behind a memento. A mark, a smell, hair. When I noticed the little spot on my neck, I was transported to the memory of your warm lips on my sensitive neck. Love it, miss you, need more. Damn, why can’t I rewind to last night. Thanks.
When you fall asleep next to her I hope you are haunted by the way the moonlight kissed my cheekbones and melted in my hair that August night. I hope you remember the way it sunk into my skin like buried treasure, the way it painted me in the color of the stars.