Rust on my palms

Fire escapes are no place for new clothes and soft skin

You don’t seem to mind, though, as I take your white t-shirt and throw it to the ground

We joke about our adventure, but we know we are unclean

Names are kept secret

This is purely physical

I need nothing from you but the flesh you so willing expose

A body

A tool

We will use one another until there is nothing left

Until dawn alerts us that we made it through a few miserable hours

Damn, look at us-

Children

Desperate to share our weight

Frustrated that we are not happier people

What will this do?

Our tryst?

Will it make looking into a mirror seem less or more damning?

I wish I knew

While we have this night

We must not think

We must only be

Two animals

Two bitter boys

You agree

Sweat greets sweat like an old friend

We two devils moan in the dark

Rapture is the revenge we take on those who wronged us

Strange tastes were born when love betrayed us

This is not love

This is survival

For the time being, it will have to do

Next Chapter: Last Night