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.



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