When we lay together in bed,
forgetting the present,
you chose to relive the past.
And I lay,
paralyzed by the heat of your body,
as you recount them,
their ghosts entering the room.
So many women I don’t know.
They stay in my mind long after,
living with the faces I create for them.
Beautiful perfect beings,
goddesses you once worshipped.
But their powers have faded since so has your story with them.
It terrifies me,
the thought of our story ending too.
How could you stay with someone as uninteresting as me?
These lands are not rich with lore like the others you’ve seen before.
A stranger you stumbled upon
and got lucky.
I got lucky.
I think of the next girl you bring to bed,
and you tell her our story,
and the ghost of me will enter the room,
haunting her also.