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.