hugo boss and cigarettes

bloc party pulses through the speakers.
A soft hum as I can barely pay attention. Not with you in the room.
As the alcohol settles I watch you make your way towards a stellar looking platinum blond. Her red leggings highlight her curves, I see that you have noticed.
I remember when you used to look at me like that. Your eyes canvassing my every bit of naked skin.
Your dark hair is short now close to your neck and sharp around the edges.I could twist my fingers through it once and you would nip at my neck.

Hidden behind the dark bar and its shadows.
You spot me now and I wave replace my saddened frown with a small smile.
Hugo Boss and tobacco is what you smell off, that and a million dirty memories that I have yet to scuff off of the back of my mind.

“You look good.” You whisper in my ear, biting it. I spot Red-Leggings, she is restless.

“So do you.” I reply as my hand wanders down the small of your back,missing the familiar.

I turn to look at my alarm clock. It’s red digits flash at me in the dark barely highlighting your body next to mine.I tangle my fingers with yours while I watch your chest rise and fall. Deep and slow.
Hugo Boss and tobacco.
I miss the smell of you on my sheets and on my skin.


July 9, 2007. memory, sex.

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