the taste of you

now that you're away, days like that one time we dared to fuck in my car on guerrero surround me like the sound of your name.
you didn't care that people might stare, or stand lingering there in front of the driveway to notice the fogged up glass and sounds of you.
i don't care, you make me so hot, you said.
hands, hair, and the taste of you on my fingers as we ate ethiopian food twenty minutes later.