I have been thinking of you tonight.
Sleeping in a haunted bed last night.
In Boston town.
There is a big bay with a defined edge,
and dark green curtains of land bush
that frame the water
only to be blocked
by the masts
and white sail boats
in the silky salty
I have been thinking about the ways that I love you.
Why I want to love you one way,
but refuse to love you another.
Still talking like this,
in this time.
In Boston Town.
In a haunted bed pretending that the hand of the ghost who strokes my thighs is yours.