Sleeping in Secrets

Every morning at 5a.m I roll over & smell you on my sheets.

I lick my lips & taste last nights Corona on my breath.

Its bitter.

But the memories that are yet to be spoken of you & me that linger in my cheeks are sweet.

Sweet.

Kinda how your kisses tasted on me in between my thousand thread count sheets.

Sweet.

Your salsa dances & black boy romances are sweet.

Maybe too sweet to ever be made real, but I think I'll be satisfied with just sleeping in my secretes tonight.

No Victoria Secretes tonight.

I'll just sleep wrapped in your arms you'll be my secrete tonight.

But In the morning you'll have to help me strip my bed of these sheets because we wouldn't to chance our romance ever becoming front page on the newspapers of every one's minds

New news to them, but old news to us. Spiritually we've been married for months.

But on paper, our relationship was never in existence because your last name her first is whats on marriage licenses where it says "Wife"

I have to bath my self in ice

Cold to numb all the lies you've kissed into my vanes.

Tapping my wrist,

two fingers like a junkie, making sure I'm not becoming high for this.

Baby my vagina isn't the Weekend's layup spot.

Wrap your scent in my sheets & leave your left overs in my finger tips so that when I bite them I'm tasting you.

Your bitter.

Not Jack Daniels bitter but corona with sugar on the rim bitter.

Your a bitter sweet memory, that dances in the threads of my sheets & awaken me every morning at 5a.m.

Your scent suffocates me. Leaves me sleeping in Secrets.

But No Victoria Secretes tonight.