I lay in an exhausted daze,
letting my heartbeat recalibrate
while my satisfied stare somehow
picks up a game of “You blinked”
with the half finished naked lady
tattooed on his calf.
The fact that this game
always ends in an impasse
suddenly makes me laugh.

He springs to his feet,
like a young boy suddenly remembering
where he cleverly hid last months’ allowance,
an innocent wide grin on his still-flushed face.
I watch him flounder and then
he finds the mini waffle maker
and begins to cook us some
highly underrated, heavenly sustenance.
We dine solely on this swollen eucharist
and...