(Photo courtesy: Pinterest)

Feverish with youth
still full of
lust for the aftershave
on his neck
I met a boy
he was beautiful

all his demons displayed

openly as fading scars
he had a
ruinous heart

only attracted boys

who tended to disappear

into the loneliness of the night
he loved me

very much
in a way I could

not understand.

July 2013:
heineken lite wrapped

around your pink lips
dancing drunken steps
digging 
into the oriental carpet
on your bedroom floor
my trembling hands
roam the

wilderness of your body
lips pressed hard
we lie down in

awkward sticky glory

we light cigarettes
dragging tobacco

down our throats
trying to smoke our ghosts away

when we finish we smile
semen still wafting through

the fabric of the sheets
the sound of our bodies

embedded in the walls
you wrap your arms
around me and I lie there
dripping in sweat
and thoughts
of his lips on mine
a memory from 1995.