One Night Stand

After the first one nightstand multiplied her longing for intimacy was roaring like a hungry lion, forced to live in a jungle with no prey.

She drove home a quarter to four after collecting her clothes wrapped up in blankets not ready to say goodbye

Trying to hide in her car feeling as small like a stone

Every streetlight trying to expose what she did not allow followed by a split second of darkness, the light came to often now the secrets unfold

Eyes heat up tears anticipating to roll

Why do I have to fuck you in hopes that you will understand my worth?

It's not her fault she choked on the false identity he fed with his lips. It’s not her fault that his first impression was of a man that she will sorely miss.

It’s not my fault the atmosphere he set only allowed the lights to be so dim I could only see traces of a man he wanted me to see.

If the lights were a little brighter maybe I would have seen the man he could never be.

His initial intention was just to know her background her face had traces of her ancestors. Warriors and lovers so much midnight in her eyes so many stories about her.

He wanted a peek at her soul while evading the responsibility of vulnerability.

She was just a mystery he could never really piece together and he had a habit of abandoning his work.

His intention touched the shoulders of temptation, one glass of wine short of saying yes to go another direction he tickled her senses of persuasion as she prepared herself for an invasion. 

This attraction, it's simply a distraction confused as passion

So he trades a lifetime of perfection so she can feel like just an obsession

For a limited time, another love trial of what could be but never will.

Who subscribes to love these days anyway?

There have been five different women this month already and his routine is now to find comfort waking up in an empty bed

He swore to never pursue the depth in her,

Never find out what's right in her because it'll be harder for him to admit that he doesn't want her.

The coward’s way out is to keep his morals brittle, find the beauty only in the sunrise of temptation.

How can you feel lonely after allowing your clothes and masks fall, laying on the floor as you stand naked and vulnerable

body recognizing hands in the dark, lips dance together while moans and whispers of our dreams escape gazing upon each other like Eyes on sunset 

how much closer can you get after knowing how they taste?

You have left your mark on her like a tattoo she regrets

Her face is a haze and her midnight eyes start to fade

You like her there, but you cannot get high anymore, it has become body after body.

But you have the power to call on them. You have imprisoned a collection of souls that

She continues to be a dream because whatever feelings you have will pass but the imprint you leave will last, no matter how many times she tries to wash the fingerprints off her ass.

She will whisper your name to him and his name to someone else. She cannot listen past the noise of thrusting, the emptiness between her and the body sweating above hers has become too loud and all she can think about... is that they have pieces of her soul now and all they left her in was the skin with tattoos she regrets.