schoolboy q’s slick verses slide over my body
as the car cruises down the ave, with summer’s
lust and light blinding my blue eyes
if they open too wide.
i don’t mind the brilliant shattering light;
it illuminates the profile of your face as
you bob your head to the music and
place the cigar between your lips.
the smoke twirls with the sun’s rays
that have seeped through the dashboard,
tickling my thigh as your fingers
simultaneously caress mine.
i want to say i love you, but i bite my
tongue as you lead us back to the little
apartment that is filled with candles along
the windowsills and has the mattress with
the red sheets splayed across the floor.
this is us. we are silence.
we are the biting of tongues, the rough kisses
and cigar smoke that fills our lungs, allowing
the music to speak words of fantasies and love
that we express only when our eyes meet at
the right time, on the right beat, with the right lyric.
the playlist stops as the car swirls into
it’s parking place, and the look of venom on
your face stabs at the butterflies
in my stomach and i begin to shake.