I kept asking him if he was okay after the first time we made love. My hand rested on his face as his body faced mine, I could feel him smile beneath my palm. "I'm always okay," he replied. I later came to know that his state of being wasn't contingent on my presence, it never was. I brought others into my bed, my sanctuary, hoping that each one would mask the smell of you. As their hands traced my body, I hoped that they'd wipe away every trace of you.
Red wine, honey, and apple peelsÂ














