a journal in short bursts that might occasionally even rhyme |
We met. In the soupy broth of bodies in few clothes pressed together we were breathing in drunkenness and lowered inhibitions breathing out debauchery and decadence flirtation laced with a hint of something more. The dance of two perfect strangers we executed flawlessly in the alley, preliminaries ignored in favor of the scratchiness of the wall on my back the scratches of my nails on yours. Neither of us as free as we appeared to be. A hotel room. It was all silk sheets and satin covers and champagne bubbling every which way, laved from navels and nipples. Red lights danced behind the blindfold, ankles chafed beneath velvet ropes to whispers murmurs sighs moans. Daybreak. When she called you answered. Bittersweet – chocolate tears spill from lowered eyes to the imprint of a thumb brushing gently across quavering lips. Nothing left to say that had not been said a thousand times over and done a thousand ways again. Tomorrows. Again again and again and again each time less joyful and more shameful a parody of love, I subsisted on the memories which exist in the spaces in-between the missing. |