Saturday, June 4, 2011

Wasn't the sex hot?

We didn't pass each other like ships in the night.
We collided, fucking our hulls against each other.

We spoke the same language but had different definitions.
I realized that as you cried in a restaurant. Oh.

I broke up with you surrounded by the disapproving murmurs of people the age of your mother, enraptured in righteousness like a conservative Christian. All words, no sympathy.

We had no idea who each other was. I wasn't going to let you learn.
You were my palliative to feeling out of control. How could I let you touch me?

I saw you the other day but of course, we didn't see each other.

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