on the list of things i loved most about her,

number one was everything about her.

number two was her eyes but number three

was her hips. i loved to grasp onto them,

kiss her protruding hipbones, hold them down

as her muscles contracted with release

and she writhed underneath me. i loved the way

her thighs would wrap around my waist

and her hips would squeeze me like a photograph

in an old lover's hand because we both

needed more friction. i could write poems

about how her hips fit with my lips and how

my lips tingled against her skin because 

when i was trying to be serious my god

was she tickle-ish, and i couldnt help but smile.