Leather jackets and smoke rings.
Dark bars and motor oil stained fingers.
Varicolored skin and scarred knuckles.
Your 5 o'clock shadow scratches my chin.
My lipstick wears off,
I look out the window to see the pitch-dark is rising to violet.
Your cue.
And you leave me staring at the ceiling,
The ghosts of your hands on the surface of my skin.