Call me a sucker.

Here it is again; you’re sorry,
You’re an asshole,
You’ll never do it again,
You care, and you do love me.

These arguments fit your face so well.
Hair-twirling, the wet eyes that grab
Everything. Full lips parting and all
I can think about is pushing them back.

Soon I’ll have my hands on your ribs,
And we’ll both blow, and I’ll fall to sleep
Like a grand piano from the 9th floor. Once
I crash I may dream that it’s all okay. And you will shower, to wash all that good shit away.

/ryan vallee