Your eyes, they remind me of hump days.
When I’d pass by after work and steal you from ladies’ night.
Your cleavage reminds me of my thirst and Thursdays.
When we’d jam to the fresh reggae roots before I dug you later.
Your hips will always hop into you freaking me on Fridays.
When we’d grab at hormones and release the week’s tension.
Now the week ends, I see you in mirrors and walls.
Now we tap through windows and screens.