50s Beds

Ft. Myers, Florida


We were sleeping in beds arranged like it was 1955:

me in one bed and you in the other, separated by maybe six feet.

It made us laugh; we were so in love.


I had already kneaded both of your breasts, coated each nipple

with my spit, and buckled you, legs overhead, to a backboard

while stabbing you deep in the center of our shared tryst.


The irony of those beds—we laughed like devils.


Later, I watched from six feet as you slept,

without the slightest suspicion of what

came next.


I miss you now more than you’ll ever understand.


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