Not just any tiger

You were the first and last thing on my mind.
Home from work. shower. a knock on my door. her face. her kiss. she tells me about her hectic day doing this and that and living with the thirst and hunger. So I order Chinese delivered.  We sit on the floor in front of the T.V. eating from tiny boxes like in the movies. To hungry. To thirsty. For her. sex on the rug, wood floor creaking under us. Chop-sticks rolling down the slope in the old floor. So drink. So eat. So fuck. Any tiger says so.
Woke up early. Heard her in the shower. She was singing to herself. I could hear it, through the wall.  

Addicted to candy

      “Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection.”
― Arthur Schopenhauer

     October - My Birthday month, my Halloween cake, and of certain anniversaries-  The death of us ever being anything but this.. hide and seek words read between the lines.
At least we have our ghosts.
Leave me signs in your poetry - in your photos.
Nightly visits to where I dwell. If I can never have you, then let me feel your presence. Deep. Let me fill your empty bones with hungry words and blood
music. Every road trip, Every night spent beneath the stars, every dirty bed.  I'll think of you with me. fucking like new lovers. some first time feeling
haunting. when I am nothing but uncontrollable. when I need to use every part you.  like every time is the best time. like every time is our last time.
Every birthday i wish for the same thing:
That this spell never ends.