Looking out past the runway, I dream of big city lights. With you, I always dreamt of desert nights. Stars filling the deepest black, endless. Hands together in a circle. Prayer upon the ashes of our forefathers. A lack of foreskin between us.
Naked, eyes blue (green? blue), wrists cuffed to a bed of electronic devices. You woke me up with a panic and I slipped a twofer in your pocket. Clad in only our underwear, skin touching skin like we are sinning. You make me feel like you’re sinning.
I do my best now to ignore the what-ifs. What if it had all been okay? I refuse to think about it. Your cheating heart would have been the end of me (nearly was). A fleck of spit on your lips upon the lake where we never kissed (it was dry back then).
How do you curve your body? How do you curve my name? How do I curse your name? It was easier when I hated you. It was easier before I knew you. Before I knew any of you. Back when my only responsibility was myself.
Gun-kissed smile in the back of the trunk. You never made me cum.