The rims of his glasses were pressed to my inner thighs
Warm, desperate breath
Sweet, smug eyes. "Pug eyes" he says.
And no, I didn't think of you.

Black and white, tame and tentative touch
Nothing to share, least of all eye contact
A charitable caress. Stiff salutation. A bound to the exit.
But no, I didn't think of you.

Churning head, stomach, tongue.
I mirrored his goofy smile
My insides mirrored a washing machine
We were a tumbleweed of bones.
I did not think of you.

Alone with my reflection
Flaws glow infer red; eyes sting with tears.
I still did not think of you.

Old basement. Old Building. Bland Sandwich.
"I just want to get to know him more," she says. I feign interest.
"I want someone to notice the little things about me. I want love"
I stop I freeze I drain
My throat is tight and full of blades
I think
I think of you