I had been whispering brazenly in your ear all night.
Not even using words half the time.
A knowing smile, a finger edging ever closer to your womanhood.
When I flicked your ******* the first time tonight I knew I couldn't lose.
The nearest park.
The nearest patch of grass in the dark.
Covered in dirt, a train thundered past as you came, your ticket to be vocal.
You looked so beautiful right then.
I inhaled you one last time and looked up at the stars as we put on our faces.

I can still hear the cicadas,
their inescapable and deafening hum.
They are the only thing I can hear,
and you are the only thing I can see.

Dry green canopies of less oft seen gums.
Rocky outcrops for zen water to trickle through.
I can still feel my heart beating to your drum,
the only thing I can feel.