juxtaposition of two orbicular ors muscles in a state of contraction

I wear your clothes when I’m lonely
when my curves prefer to be dressed in you
& you’re nowhere to be found.
here we are again, half dressed, hoping not to get caught
a world of shouldn’t-have-done-that’s
forgotten when it’s only us around.

I prefer your stormy crush fed up voice
so I’m not afraid to start the fights
just intimidated of how many times you won’t hesitate
to hang up on me in one night.

I’d stay in this town forever
because I associate your face with its welcome sign.
I’ll stay between the guitar strings & your fingers
next to your head & your fretboard, tangled in your sheets
focused on each other’s body heat.

& this town would be nothing
if you didn’t put your hand in mine—
if we didn’t waste our time
with something that doesn’t exist—
if what we have wasn’t perfect like this.