when i can creep into our 3 am bed
slink into the sliver of mattress
you saved for me watch the streetlight
slice through the curtain leaving a streak
of fluorescence in your hair stare
at the ceiling and wait maybe
you’ll steal back the covers maybe
you’ll offer me your leg maybe
you’ll beg for quiet then in a whisper
so not to stir the monster masquerading
as jeans on a chair you’ll ask get any
writing done? no, read two articles though.
they say love is no different than large amounts of chocolate.
also, the cocoa bean will soon be no more.
Copyright © 2024 by Quincy Scott Jones. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 24, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.