From down the hall
       I feel you sigh
         your head between your knees
behind the locked door
my legs are wrapped around his neck
and my innocence forsaken
     all I can picture are
        your sculpted collarbones
          and my fingertips
              l     o     n     g     i     n     g  
you need a cigarette, you grumble

and I need a hot shower
(to cleanse me of his filth)