words by dominic riccitello

moans from beneath
your dark gray sheets
the air and howl
you standing there
with a towel
around your waist
morning fog
the cold
the coffee beans
two years
and i still remember
the fine details
the swoop of your hair
how you stood in the dark
yet in the light
how you were wrong
but oh so right
and afraid
and kind
and intertwined
in my soul
for the rest of my life