beyond that

it's not
the skin, the shape
of her, her neck,
the long fingers
that entangle mine,
or hair gone wild,
it's not
the length of her
legs anymore,
or the curve of her,
or the quarter moon
and stars etched
on her right
shoulder. it's not
the way her
lips move when
she talks, when
she laughs, when
she smirks, it's
none of that
now. it's way
beyond that.