Untitled.

I think youth envied us

Suspended between love and desperation,

In between the gin and the haze and the tiled floors –

We fell

I cried that night, and you were gone

I was weak, but there was security in your shoulder

Fragile, with strength in your hand.

In the evening we went home and wrote poetry on our backs

Tracing delusions with soft fingertips

Whispering white lies as if somebody could hear us

Dark hair cascading over leather

A shirt collar, brushing against the chin

And if we were lost, there was refuge in sleep.

Curled up by your side I shiver,

Tenderness burning through slowed breath.

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