“...in hindsight”
your hair, when you rolled over this morning,
still smelled of smoke
from last night’s bonfire.
it reminded me of marshmallows,
which is all i could think about
while we made love,
which is ok, because i like marshmallows.
but now that you’re downstairs
making the coffee,
i wonder, as i write this,
how you’re going to react when you read
of me thinking about marshmallows
during sex.
i guess, in hindsight, marshmallows are better
than jennifer lawrence or my car’s
check-engine light, buy not by much.
11.7.20