Drought.

I did not kiss your neck
because I wanted something.

I was desperately searching 
for water, and I settled for 
your cold sweat.

It was merely a matter of my own 
survival, but you took it
as a compliment.

Loving you 
was fourty-six months 
in the desert,
and I am still,
always, 
just a little bit
thirsty.