my jordan
August 25, 2006
i am constantly measuring her against your small things:
for instance how you whispered softly when we fucked.
she doesn’t whisper. ever. but hell i was used to you
constantly trying desparately to tell me anything at all.
you were not slim confidant beautiful cocky and fuckall.
sometimes i still expect to see you timid in new situations
but instead she is there to prove you opposing forces.
last night i forgot you turned my head and said her name
as she growled mine back into my ear. fiercly. grinning.
jordan i love you. tom i love you. till morning almost.
it was high noon before i remembered how you whispered.
you were not her but dammit i was used to your body.
i am still discovering places with my hands. with my lips.
she is still something of a mystery. she is still exciting.
but i am constantly measuring idiosyncracies your and hers.
i tell her this and she doesn’t mind. she knows i loved you
but she knows i love her and that one day i will say that
godammit i am used to you jordan. you’re my favorite shoes.
you come here. let’s fuck up the morning good and proper.
