Naked

Over the shoulder of some
inconsequential man, the love of your life, or something
like that.
Over his shoulder we exchanged our first
glance.
Slow and methodical,
up
and
down
you peeled me open,
and left the skin of my mind
on the dirty carpet littered with laundry.
I stood there, naked.

And I knew in that moment
that the world was a different place
than I had previously supposed.

(Thus far, my dear, you have always
proved this to be true.)

I lay here now,
as you sleep next to me in your panties and
not a damn thing else.
Your mouth is curved in a smile,
whether from your dreams
or my kisses
(god I love all your lips).
And I think of being naked.

This is what it never was before.
Not with anyone else.
And this is what it has always been.
But only always with you.