I have more than I am worth
when you come in three’s .
I sleep like a fish on a hook,
but only on the outside.
Inside, I am writhing with
want,
need,
gripping my thighs on to everything.
It has been one year and a hundred days
since I saw your fingertips
but I keep that to myself.
Time has stolen us longer before.
Remember?
Remember those black days?
Remember cigarette ash stains at the bottom of
beer cans, while a thin man drummed
and you drove us away?
We never went anywhere, but to sleep.
I took the backseat
while you drove off into distance,
into caves.
When I awoke, I found myself alone,
but I found myself,
and you,
came back to me in three.
Your fingertips teasing me while I sleep,
like a fish on a hook.
Outside, but
you are in.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 