"I never want to sleep again"
(echos through my head.)
You continued to ask me if I could see the lines clearer, the shadows deeper,
the reflections on the glass bottles creating rainbows rather than white smudges.
I rubbed the rest on my teeth like you taught me.
I denied what I was seeing.
Until you leaned over your desk,
with your left arm holding up the rest of your form at an acute angle,
allowing your right hand the freedom to chose the soundtrack
(of my moments.)
The lamp's light finally graced my eyes
with provocative shadows on your sweet skin.
And what do we do with excess energy?
We sit cross legged in each others laps on your living room rug,
swaying.
Two cigarettes,
shared.
My crossed fingers to your lips, your crossed fingers to between mine.
Feeding poison, supplying medicine.
It didn't rain on us.
The cool, wet breeze swept the weight from my naked back.
And you accept me.
You fucking accept me.
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