THE PREAMBLE
the stars are winking at me
urging me towards him.
I don’t do one-nighters,
I told them.
“What time is it?”
I asked him
“It’s… seven to the third”
replied the rum.
my watch pointed to one AM.
and then –

ITS SEVEN TO THE THIRD
the knowing smirk,
the touch of his lips,
the smell of his skin,


lingering in the air
his wandering hands,

quiet heart beating

silky voice
the proximity of his body,
fresh night air,
confidence in a bottle,
brain saying no,
heart fighting brain
no, no, no

you’re the biggest paradox I’ve ever met

the meridian on the boulevard -
street lights accusing
two unbalanced bodies
under the disguise of one
swaying to the rhythm of

pounding heads,

beating hearts
and his tempting voice
serenading as though he were sober
with the emotion that he doesn’t have.

moving forward

kiss me again
fingers intertwined

I’ll pretend I don’t care
eyes alight

that this is what I can’t have
come closer

if you kiss me again

his eyes see through me
his hands know me
better than I know myself,
if only the rest of him could say the same.

the air grows cold,
we don’t.
no, no, no
keep breathing
my heart cries out
in seeming victory
but it doesn’t know
what my conquered brain knows
kiss me again,
make me forget
that I’m lying to myself.

He holds me hostage
I want to be free
or at least be on his team
but I’m not allowed
because I’m not good enough
and he’s the most alluring terrorist
I’ve ever seen.

I don’t have trust
but lust will do
this is why,
this is why
my brain says no.