Every mouth you’ve ever kissed
was just practice,
all the bodies you’ve ever undressed
and plowed into
were preparing you for me.
I don’t mind tasting them in the
memory of your mouth,
they were a long hallway,
a door half open,
a single suitcase still on the conveyor belt.
Was it a long journey?
Did it take you long to find me?
You’re here now,
welcome home.