Poem: Legs, Skin, Me

I let you in my apartment like I let you inside my legs,
like I let you slip between my warm blanket and the leather couch against my skin,
like I let you slip inside me.

There's nothing special about the way you're touching my legs,
No special technique you're moving up my thighs rising goosebumps on skin,
no special sequence of pressing steps while you spread me.

It was your smile, the careful hint of promise you'd be between my legs,
The promise you'd have me laughing as you struggled to breathe against my wet skin,
The promise that you were waiting all this time, since high school, for me.