poison and antidotes

I wrestle with his touch

Big hands firmly

Wrapped around

Stretching the length of my slender body

Drawing me in

Further

Skin close, as close as my own

His scent is familiar

Thick

Against my neck

Turkish Gold’s cigarettes and Burberry cologne

My lips know it well

Heavy breath at my ear

Warm and rhythmic

I listen

For messages of satisfaction

or distaste

Fingers long and rough

A gentle caress

Along my side

Brushing the hair from my face

falling

From my eyes to his

It feels like heaven

To be held

Loved

My heart on his chest

And I etch the memories

Deep

Into the lines of my weary skin

Engraved among the others

I carry them

Then

He stands

Silently

Shaking off blankets

The sanctuary that held us

And moves away

Not looking back

To another room

Another day

Another lie

Without a word

Hidden among the covers

I pull my knees to my chest

And wrap my arms around

Small hands resting lightly

On smooth cold skin

Mascara drips

Washing away smoke and Burberry

Laying still in the last moments between night and day

Fingering the memories etched into my side

Not of love

But of getting

Fucked

Alone

I wrestle with his touch

Ancient memories buried deep within the well-worn boxes of my mind. It takes only one swift breeze of cool air to realize smoke and Burberry last a lifetime.