their clocks tick. sure, his
is off-beat much like his life
and hers ticks along

sluggishly. o how
a heart can stumble into
another in the

most inopportune
manner! this doesn’t make sense,
she whispered that first

night, and he could do
no more than agree. this is
pointless, he rejoined,

and instead of that
expected sombre moment
they both just snorted.

death’s conventional
and the night is young, though their
days are old and mourn

for the loss of hope.
kiss, touch, ****, love. it’s enough
for two criminals.