pool party
his slime wormed its way
around your fingers
tightening your grasp on his
naked body plastered lighter.
his charm held your gaze—
pinned it onto his lapel
tamed by years of exhaled cigarettes
and away from my discomfort.
away from my steely-eyed disgust.
not tonight.
not any night.
but your beer-bellied tongue
sensed the novelty and
shouldered me aside:
“this is the berlin we live for.”
smoke infested, rage riddled cesspools of hurt andimgone
mother always said nothing good happens after midnight.