Evening air and dry text replies
It is a cold winter day,
in the midst of July.

Clear and loud silence,
surrounding her steps.
The sudden reflex to deflect.

A random call. A sudden ‘yes’.
Opening door, a familiar face.
Same old, same old.. exhausting exchange.

Dancing hands, usual soulless gaze.
Curious hands, hypnotising embrace.
Rushing hands, the usual regret.

Lust overdoses, her soul feels sore.
Another heart rash. Regret. Repeat. Regret.
emotional hangover,   unread morning-after text.