I’m home with his voice in my blood, pulsing with every beat of my warm heart. If it weren’t for antique honour, if it weren’t for the right thing to do. I believe in smoothed flashes of desire tonight, of ragged edges honed down to bone. We’re good at telling catholic beads of guilt, dreams unbound to fly, however against the rules. Time, I say, and time, and I want to scream my betrayal and I don’t know how. I’m wanting, I’m waiting, there’s tension. I have a handy backdoor, a trapdoor in pain, a country to visit, a life to regain, but that’s a curtain call, a final shout out to the audience at large of one and only, my only, my love. I leaned against a cold stone wall and let my pants drop to my ankles, both feet trying to plant themselves firmly in sand. No one walked by until later, small miracle timing buckling belts and softest skin. There’s never been anyone to touch like this, to walk with at night. I have been waiting. Bastard boy, impatience before me, satin in my hands. Transgression hesitation, we’re eating tongues, words. Swallow souls, flying, sliding down like candy. My mouth can’t wait to strain my vocabulary of sweets. springwound like binding like a tight cord his hand at my neck, my breath, my breath it burns to see you go like fire, fire, tingling he’s not here no crimson flushed cheek tide, no silk tide, currents of hair to drown in sweetly calling my name his name our breath candlelight slow slow tearing wanting more and dying dying drying up inside not allowed to not allowed no not ever can’t shant won’t today tonight he’s not here and there’s music playing and I don’t know who gave it to me but I’m alone and the bed is empty