The affectionate embraces,
    the smiles,
    the laughs
marked near perfection in the night,
until guilt and all the external weight set in.
Then I felt like a *****, a shameless *****
wanting to be pure again.

So I begged him to look into my eyes.
    Tell me the color,
    Tell me they matter.
I ache for that same easy feeling just ten hours earlier,
    the immediate rush,
    the desperate longing.
******, I just want it to feel right.
At least for tonight.

With the absent adrenaline, I lay my head down,
close my eyes,
and let one drop fall.
I let him catch it with his fingertip.
I let him ask and feel concerned.
I let him believe my half-true answer.

For the sake of everything good in the world,
I just want to sleep a dreamless sleep and
wake up to thoughts of nothing.