A wrist in his story is not commitment. It is cover. If I am good enough for his bed I am good enough for face.
Tag: nightlife
Money gone to be ignored faster. I called it efficiency. It was loneliness with a receipt. The app took payment. It did not take me.
No eye contact. Fast feet. A whole argument finished before my stop. This city is rude and useful. It lets you disappear while staying public.
Same kitchen. Same oat milk. Then a rose on the app. The house became an incubator with worse lighting. I shut the fridge, considered leaving.
We looked tight in the picture. On the platform it went quiet. That is the comedown. The story goes on the grid. Silence comes home.