Our Little Secret

I hide the palm-sized wrappers Between half-formed poetry stanzas And a note-to-self. We used to be more careful, Our breathless whispers Masked by Edward Elric And the slam of fantasy alchemy. Now we crash into each other With the ferocity of half-starved animals And merely hope no one hears. Or notices. I leave my prints upon your shoulders, Your back, You leave your prints on my soul. And sometimes, my throat. I leave with your clothes on. You leave with your hair mussed, Eyes shining. Every day I become a little closer To replacing my body With parts of yours. 12/6/17