wantonly grinding against the mattress,
wishing–hoping–for you behind me
i can feel your hairy thighs tearing at mine–
your fingers clawing into the soft flesh of my hips.
my breasts take my weight as we
(we? I mean I–you aren’t here, are you?)
force the unwanted pillows off the bed.
I breathe in the sheet, filling my nose with longing.
Fingernails mark my hips. Teeth grab my shoulder.
I push up, back, into you. Against you.
My hand snakes to find the hollow under my hips.
In that moment, I remember you’re not here.