Small hairs sprinkle his hand
His touch is wet and uncomfortable
He smells of musk and ash
He's nervous

I try to contain myself from leaving
My minds fall back to you
It's like I'm sick
I gag on his smell

It's not one I know
Not one I want to taste

I hate you
Yet I come back
To your memory
Your sound

Is reminisced in my ears
You thwack and bang
Against my heart
Begging to be let out

I throw up on my words
They're like metal
Swishing and swallowing
My desire to let go

I end my meeting.
Leaving to my unwashed sheets
They outline the disgusting yearning
Of my body

A flash of light illuminates my face
Your picture
Your long hair.. and hairless arms..
I turn it off.

I have a date tomorrow.