First with your hands and then with your mouth.
A downpour of sweat, damp cotton clouds.
I was a fool, you were my friend. We made it happen.
You took off your clothes, left on the light. You stood there so brave. You used to be shy. Each feature improved, each movement refined and eyes like a showroom.
Now they are spreading out the blankets on the beach.
That weatherman is a liar.
He said it would be raining but it is clear and blue as far as I can see.
Left by the lamp, right next to the bed, on a cartoon cat pat you scratched with a pen, "Everything is as it has always been. This never happened.
Don't take it so bad it is nothing you did. It's just once something dies you can't make it live. You are a beautiful boy.
You're a sweet little kid but I am a woman." So I laid back down and wrapped myself up in the sheet.
And I must have looked like a ghost because something frightened me and since then I've been so good at vanishing.