The walk of no shame used to feel like power. Lately it just feels like I am frightened of breakfast. That is a different story.
Tag: nights
Drink can make a bad idea feel cinematic. Daylight and tea do not. I like the ones still filthy when nobody has an excuse left.
The night is not finished when you finish. Sit up. Talk rubbish. Touch my back. That quiet bit is how I decide you get another.
If you rush I stay in my head fixing my face. Give me a minute to get stupid. That is when it gets good both.
We swap memes and late voice notes. Nobody asks what this is. The talking stage is just two people auditioning without agreeing the job exists.
No speech about my past. No scoreboard on the night. Just appetite and a bit of manners. Rare. I remember them far too bloody long.
A bruise with no text after is just mess on skin. If you claim the body, you can claim the morning as well afterwards too.
Hinting is not mystery. It is cowardice with better lighting. I would rather a blunt no than a man performing confusion all week long here.
It’s when the weirdos come out There is a particular hour on the Night Tube where you can tell exactly who everyone was three hours ago. Not from their faces. From the evidence. Mascara at midnight. Work badge in the…
Sometimes it means he has sense. Dinner with a stranger is tax. Meet, clock the vibe, then spend. A cheap soul shows later, not first.