You say that I'm the best you’ve ever had
and read me a short story—Bikini-clad girls
at the A&P, and I slink into the sheets.
You say, "How very foolish love can be."
You say, "Let’s eat ice cream with our toes."
I say, "That’s silly," but our bodies seem to fit,
and I will pull yours into mine,
your hand resting on my thigh.
I say, "I haven’t shaved my legs in weeks."
And you smell like pineapples,
with a little touch of sweat, so sweet.
You say, "Who cares, it’s mostly blonde,"
and when I finally fall asleep,
you whisper something to yourself.
You say that I'm the only one you’ve ever had.