Mark says relax...

eyewrit:

I often think of him,
while swathed by my sheets;
my shoulders scented of apple-green soap.

Or on the bus, where
my thighs and cheeks get warm
so I rub my ears to soften the glow.

I can think of him,
while I read stories or smoke,
but I think of him best when half drunk,

in the quiet dark,