Thursday:Boxes and bags cramp the kitchen floor,
a maze to navigate to reach you,
arms extended, I find your hips
hidden under black shorts
and I drag you, helpless,
through the collection
of our collective
up the stairs
I'm young, but I'm growing older.
I'm ignorant, but I'm learning.
I'm angry, but I'm focusing.
I'm in love, but I'm open.
I'm tired, but soon I'll be sleeping with you.