Raleigh

It’s days like this that my mind returns to Raleigh The pitch, sandy futon, and our intertwined deviant legs Pushing for a fix I for one goal, you for another I would be more aware by the end of the night of the smoothness of your forehead, and your full Latin lips While you would know my hips and fistfuls of my golden hair We would each know the fire on our tongues and the familiar feeling of a heavy mind, tossing and turning chest to chest I loved you, but was surprised to find your hands rough and your lips untempered Like a child, you indulged in me without the mind for what I am, or the culture to know better Though still, you press and carry me under the door frame, to the floor and as we rest, night continues to sink, like theatre canvas And We are disposed to move With your golden skin, you lie As your fingers trace circles in my skin I thought that you loved me too... But when my mind returns to Raleigh My thoughts return to you and your cold bed, our swimming heads and how at dawn, you dropped me off My bitten skin looking redder in the tail lights