No, not really a night
We made love --
I use the romantic term--
Feverishly in the day
It was overcast,
And the oily grime on your sheets
Contrasted with the clean smell of your hair.
And the flavor of you was sharp and new.
I would fold you away in my wallet
Press you safely between my pages
Like the biblical whale
I would swallow you whole.
Devour you little by little by little.
But you are not mine.
And the grime on your sheets belongs to another.
Did you know what you were stealing
When you called me "beautiful boy"
And kissed me
And kissed me
And kissed me?

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