It was never easy. Those easy soliloquies
made to appease the easiest parts of myself.
Truth be told. In every fold of easy wit
underlying the folded skits of your skirt.
These were the days of our lives.
The uneasy pleasure of your flesh pressed
with measure upon my protraction.
I protest. You laugh. A smile breaks between us.
An exacting of what we reckon to be.
You seize the day and I
the moment. I breathe as