“What if I just send him a message that says: I want you to come over and go down on me till I come all over your face. And then leave.”

    The soft light in the restaurant was highlighting her cheek bones and she took a bite of ceviche and threw her head back a bit and laughed, “bro, do it,” she said. 

   I instead stripped down to nothing and climbed into my familiar spot, sprawled out, new sheets, to only the smell of my own skin.  A tree branch with green full leaves, but light-feathery, that has recently grown to reach towards my bed was singing me a lullaby each time the wind pushed it towards the glass next to my head.

   Hours later, in a dream that my ex was kissing my thighs and squeezing the fleshiest parts, without touching at all in between, I awoke to my phone ringing incessantly.  

   His hands on my face felt invasive and the words in my ear-obnoxious, but he was almost instantly between me.  Its funny how you can forget or forgive a year or two, if only for a fleeting five minutes, when someone’s familiar and knowing lips are deep against you.

What can I say, really?