WHEN YOU’RE GONE I love to lick your sweet From my arm Just for the taste of you Your smell enters my nostrils As I caress. Your old bathrobe. Your heavy breathing moaning Echoes in my ear Remembering our pleasure When I open my legs The sticky funk of good love Perfumes hot air I don’t change the bed For a while Gently fondling your residue When I clean I always leave your curled hair Savouring the possession of a part of you And sometimes for days My muscles hurt so good From that new position