The way the cigarette smoke seemed to
hesitate in the wind of the half opened car window.
It floated out of your lips in small O's and seemed to linger
on your mouth for a fraction of a second before dissipating into the air.

2.
The glint in your eye as you pushed yourself into me,
my hands wrapped around your tan arms,
pressing white into the hard flesh.
The gasp and the way your hands moved to grip mine,
your lips at my neck,
pulling my hair as it tosses around in your sheets.
The spit, the lack of love, the lack of emotion.
The lust.

3.
The smell of you sauteing onions,
the streetlights buzzing outside your window,
the skulls on the sill illuminated with the glow.
The way the alcohol spills on your hardwood floor
and the way my eyes follow you.
The way my mouth waters for something that can not be fed.