it wasn't all about
the proverbial lighting of the post-****** cigarette
the white sheets wrapped around inseparable sweaty bodies

holding hands, tangled legs

staring
at the ceiling

these sheets all tucked around my *******, his waist

it was the mediocre
it was the scurry across cold plastic floors
to go ***, quickly,

so I wouldn't start ******* blood 20 or so hours later

and forcing myself to ***
and splashing water to stop dripping *** across the floors

while I looked in the mirror
nonplussed
but
hair mussed

sticky with sweat
dripping with goo

thinking

man,
that felt really good
and reveling in that brief, delightful feeling

of a man's weight
on your chest

breathing heavily after ******* inside you