I am chilled coffee and cream at sunrise,
too many scars in a bikini,
a pale diamond in my bellybutton
soaking up warmth on the dock by the lake.
You are Grizzly chew, always spitting,
and downing cold beers like water;
rough cheeks and fresh sheets,
stretched on your stomach as you dream.
If you don’t love me, it’s okay.
I will exist with or without this.
Kisses are not promises,
like I used to believe.