I can feel the leather
My fingers wrapped around bricks
The little sounds he made when he kissed me too fast.
Proud of my extended frog pose in a city bank
Parking lot
Darker on one side,
or so it seemed from every angle
And I wondered, can anyone see me?
In this dark
Can the cock, or the cop
Can the kid with the wide smile?
Pleasing people on a stopwatch
Did a rear view mirror catch me from behind your jacket
Making bad choices
Questioning his grip
Two beams reaching in, reminding me
Of early mornings
My realness bent in my reality
Why does this feel different
Why this time, does it make me dirt
Unflattened, freshly turned over
Flipped ties over tossed shoulders
Sunken
Flattery growing rigged on my tongue
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