Don’t turn around. Don’t touch me. Don’t speak. Don’t go. Fall asleep between me and the door. Give me your dreams, the dreams of someone who has never done anything wrong. You tasted good. You sounded even better. But I’m not what you deserve. I just needed to make sure you’d stay here, between me and the door. And I don’t know any other way to ask. Sometime in the night, you climb out of bed and put on a shirt, some shorts. I watch you go, because I’m not asleep, and I expect you to leave. Maybe for good. Maybe, after everything I’ve done, it was this that drove you away. But you don’t
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