You stop asking and she tells you what she wants in the flat voice of someone reading a list.

Her hands are certain. Yours learn from hers. She puts them where she wants them and says: there, and: not like that.

When her hip cramps she swears, shifts her weight, and pulls you back down on top of her before you can ask a single question.

You learn the difference between pain and damage by watching her face, and the difference between either and getting what she wants.

JuneSee. This is what I wanted. Not the careful version.

You fall asleep with the lamp on and her hand in your hair.