Sexytime

Morning, after having sex with you and I didn't ask for your number

I woke up with a blanket covering my legs.

I don’t remember wearing my boxers back,

so maybe you enjoyed a last peak at my slumbering penis.

Probably you smoked your last stick of menthol

just before you wore your thong back on.

You didn’t have a bra and you did look amazing

with your nipples almost sneaking out of your satin-soft top.

I assume you took a shower before you left,

and maybe, my bath soap wasn’t good enough for you.

I hope you just put on a great deal of your perfume,

so nothing would remind you of this, of me.

I wear Hilfiger by the way, but you may already know that

because you kept on saying something

about how my skin felt last night.

I didn’t bother to lock the door when we got here;

I don’t think you had a problem getting out.

Although I loved how you licked my ass

and I got crazy with your breasts,

you only told me your name

and I couldn’t remember your face.

I sat up—I noticed that you left an impression

on my bed and a mark on my neck.

And when I looked outside the window,

a woman, selling cigars, uttered a sound I couldn’t hear.

I don't know who took this photo. Thank you, whoever you are.