When you sense the peach velvet after a boisterous fuck,
Do not panic.
Blister your bruises back onto your thighs.
You may not like the taste, but it is customary to return the celebration.
Pledge to never throw away the smudged Polaroids when you break up.
Let this mysterious mythical maple stick to your teeth for a moment.
Savour the intimacy.
Right now, you are rose grass holding,
Or oil courage dipping,
Or amethyst lemonade breathing.
You are in her arms,
Warm,
Not quite ready to head to class.