Not only did the world stop —
But time did too —
When he breathed on my ear.
His breath smelled healthy for his age,
And the fake bones in his
The way he acted — the way he laughed,
Or the way he cleared off his shirt of spilt red wine —
He spoke his spoke, him with his angelical
Language being produced that
Would carry anyone’s words
Through a devil’s pitchfork, and execute
Without mercy in a bloody manner.
He did not know—
No one knew —
No one knew — but I.
I lived for New York City and
Its riches at eighteen —
Out of the millions of ants,
I held the biggest crumb for me to share — to take.
His watch looked youthful with the way it ticked and clocked.
Time moved too slow; it was close to being frozen at three in the morning.
Tick tick clong!
This man, his hands touched me softly
And gently — caressing my endorphins —
Heart muscles moved in full throttle in oil, but it happened to be sweat — I,
Older, he, younger, took the youth from my functionality.
Sixty-five times weaker he was than me —
He wanted my time — my pace.
His power was generosity — the gifts
Covered in dirty green papers, and his skin filled with void.
I chose to be in love with him —
In lies the death’s door — across the
Threshold that he was about
Creak and slam!
Never to be seen again.
What was left was his cashmere
Cologne scripted around the room.
The scent was strong — gripped all over
Me with every particle —
A timeless kiss.