Juxtaposition. Chair.

You were there. I was there.
Leaned your head against my arm,
And I assumed my arm chair.
I chose to stare at your hair,
Watch it rise and fall with your inhalations.

And you slung your hair back
To reveal a collarbone
While your eyes peered over.

And juxtaposed like sun and moon,
Like button to shirt,
Lip to lip, we kissed.

But it dawned - there
She goes again, doing that thing with
her nose -
On me where I had been all along,
Baring your back upon my posture,
Still.

I hold you up, my dear, for fear
You should slouch.
While your spine aches for limber curvature,
I stand my ground,
I hold my pose,
I hold you up,
My dear,
For fear,
You should learn that I am
a chair
beneath            you.

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