He and She
She knows every inch of the dance floor, as she heads for the pink light. After the beat suffocates, melting into a stutter of funk, wet groins itching for a little bit of entrapment, they sink into their seats. She wants to be real as her breasts ache, focusing on his mouth, not hearing a single word. You're so lovely inside those eyes, she purrs.
Inside her eyes, you’re so lovely she purrs He burns his fingers wondering if he should laugh, feeling like a stud, ready for the auction. Vacant messages pinned to her heart, she wants to mount him, rip him apart. Imprison him on the couch for the rest of his life. His eyes tells her of her ugliness. Like spreading in front of the congregation, tugging at the string, invitation to a joy bang. I bet you fuck in your sleep. He redeems himself with the spit of words, watching her scratch at his heart, as she crawls back for more. He cuddles closer. They look at each other, pupils diluted by experience, turning into wolves, smelling blood. Ten more minutes before the evening ends. Dark patches on the baby-sitters as they count their tips, collecting bets made on people like He and She. Hostess brings them another round, sees herself in she and thinks, "Honey he's a jerk." then plods back to her station, leaving them to re-think their possibilities. They leave and step into a movie. A scenario with an intro, against the backdrop of a deli, tabled with plates, fries and ketchup. Coasting into middle ground, body conversation with the top down, soaking up a falling sky. Underlining the finale in a room with a bed, sheets that peel away the skin. As he stabs for his mother and she reaches out to rescue him from her past.