His lips tasted of his breat; stained with liqour and guilt.

As he pressed himself so close to me,

I could feel the irratic thumping in his chest.

The thumping that seemed to be morse code- 

telling me his sorrows and anger.

His fingertips seemed to crush me;

Painting pictures on my skin of the words he never uttered,

with the bruises that they left.

Yet his eyes gave away his soul

the childlike glow dissinegrating into a midnight sea,

bringing forth an emptiness that only few know.

In that moment,

in that milli-second of a moment

he had given away part of himself; unseen to the world's eye.