Gripping Sheets & Limitless Skin

I miss nights
of sleeplessness and blind conversations.
We kept the lie of dreams at bay.

Gripping sheets, and
limitless skin;
we held on to more than each other.
We were anything, in the darkness:
cats, words, childhood memories and ambitious goals.
Little bits of forever, hiding
behind slices of midnight.

I miss nights
of simple things; two bodies in
a bed built for one, wrestling
for the end of a blanket that was
not big enough.
I had very little patience for warmth, but our sex
smelt of sweat
and cigarette heat.
We basked in our own sun.

The night is heavy now.
Sometimes, alone, I hold
my damp pillow, tightly, and close my eyes.
In the darkness, I would
stroke your cheek
and wait patiently for the lie of dreams.

I tell myself: there is
nothing to miss.
That there is little to remember.

I tell myself many things.

To my oh-so-favourite boy of the moment. 
Suck it up.