waking this morning slowly, hearing the girl upstairs (elise’s) bare feet against the floorboards, felt exactly a sensation of the nub of your nipple in my mouth, caught (gently) in my teeth, tongued over, glistening. so quick a feeling that i am confused, then know—hearing her turn, walk across the floor, step, knowing the curve of her torso exactly above me—that this sound reminded me of a hundred mornings in our bed, hearing your feet move about exactly so, thinking: i know the feel of the curve, the hand sliding under and gently furrowing the moisture of the labia, the rough softness of the hair, the contraction at the touch. i lay there in a reverie, hearing the steps, feeling these sensations, lost in memory and your body and the morning and the presence of a stranger above me, solid smooth footfall moving to her bath