My head lay on your tummy. You were making me listen to crappy country songs. I was pointing out that the lyrics were about date rape, and you were trying not to laugh. You were annoyed and amused, and when you were, you made this chewing-bad-food face. As if you had a retort you couldn’t spit out because I was just that goddamn cute. You also did that every time my hair cascaded around your head, crawling in between our kisses. We liked giggling (even though you hated giggling, cos it’s so feminine).
I took all my things that make sounds
The rest I can do without