He turns up at my place 08:00 hours.

He looks like he hasn’t slept all night.

He gives me a cigarette; we smoke by the window.

Stutters his words, he doesn’t know what to say.

And neither do I.

Keep looking him up and down, unsure

how to feel. He goes to use the toilet.

I remember the first time we met.

He slammed me and I flew so high.

He tied my hands, blindfolded me.

He penetrated me, but we never kissed.

He never pulled me into his arms,

never told me he wanted me

like I wanted him.

But what does it matter?

The moment he reappears I go in to hug him

and I don’t want ever to let him go.

I bury my face in his chest, smell

the sweat and smoke on him.

Please let it cling to me

like a scar.

17 January 2025