Pause. Back. Play.
Play at that weekend you wore the white skirt, the one that still wakes me in the middle of the night, when we got takeaway key lime pie from that restaurant we used to go to. We agreed I was going to eat it off your ass, use my ass like a plate were your exact words, but we almost got into an accident during the taxi ride home, the taxi stopping short, its tires screeching as your nose bashed into my forehead because you were straddling me in the back seat, the key lime pie covering the taxi making it stickier than it already was, us so drunk we barely noticed it’d happened until we woke up in the middle of the night to your raccoon eyes. The following afternoon, we iced your nose and lay in bed all day. You demanded sweet tea and I got it for you every time, filling the mug and getting you a straw, so you wouldn’t have to lift your head. You kept saying, I want to be disgustingly lazy with you, Captain and pulled the hair out of my shoulders and laughed while I ran my hand over your ass over and over. We fell asleep on and off with you tucked into me. We ordered sushi and didn’t get out of bed to eat it. We drank your favorite bourbon as you read poems out loud. We slept for 14 hours. Then it gets the part where you get dressed and leave.
Play at the weekend where you wore the white skirt…