like this
1.
the smells of boys. distinct and boozey.
Sitting at the bar, just men in here, some christmas lights
dimness, the mirror behind the beer display giving me
glimpses of me, suddenly muscles and manly in here, must
be the lights.
My friend comes up from behind I see him first, in the mirror,
turning my head to say hi, catching the strong metallic smell of
amyl, he's pressed a brown bottle to my nose.
Floating to my feet we push through the narrow columns of boys and men
to the tiny fog covered dance floor.
I almost take my shirt off.
I almost tell my friend how much I love him.
I pull deep from my peppery tequila and soda, it's coldness cutting through
and ending the headrush of the Poppers.
2.
Your room is dark. The electronic thrum of synthesized rain sounds block out
street noise. No windows means you're in a cave. It could be 8 a.m.
It could be 2 p.m. You wake on your left side, hugging a pillow to your chest and stomach. Behind you there is the breathing of a boy. His spit still on your mouth, the smell of him rubbed on your face, your hands still slick, with cum and sweat and spit and lube.
the smells of boys. distinct and boozey.
Sitting at the bar, just men in here, some christmas lights
dimness, the mirror behind the beer display giving me
glimpses of me, suddenly muscles and manly in here, must
be the lights.
My friend comes up from behind I see him first, in the mirror,
turning my head to say hi, catching the strong metallic smell of
amyl, he's pressed a brown bottle to my nose.
Floating to my feet we push through the narrow columns of boys and men
to the tiny fog covered dance floor.
I almost take my shirt off.
I almost tell my friend how much I love him.
I pull deep from my peppery tequila and soda, it's coldness cutting through
and ending the headrush of the Poppers.
2.
Your room is dark. The electronic thrum of synthesized rain sounds block out
street noise. No windows means you're in a cave. It could be 8 a.m.
It could be 2 p.m. You wake on your left side, hugging a pillow to your chest and stomach. Behind you there is the breathing of a boy. His spit still on your mouth, the smell of him rubbed on your face, your hands still slick, with cum and sweat and spit and lube.
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