I Take Your T-Shirt to Bed Again

And by now it has almost lost its scent—

your scent, as when you were here and turned

towards the wall while I pressed my body

into your body and sighed, “You smell like candy”

into your t-shirted back. Yes, the smell is yours

the shirt warmed by your lean torso, tufted

and delicious. I’ve washed my clothes in your soap,

but that wasn’t it—there must be something sweet your pores

pour forth. In three days you will be here and we will drink

from and with each other, sleep in close quarters,

naked, awake to heat and singing cells and slickness. But now,

 too tired even to please myself, I breathe the shirt that covers

my pillow and dream—our yes and yes and yes opening and opening—

----Amy Lemmon

Published in The Best American Poetry 2013 (Scribner, 2013)

Originally published in Vitrine:a printed museum