trojan warrior

I peel off the condom wrapper that I spot stuck on to your elbow.
I toss it to the floor next to the Gatorade bottle that has stained your teeth and tongue.

“It smells filthy in here.” I say.
You expect a reaction as my eyes flit over your naked body.
“Red-leggings just left. I have yet to wash up.”

As I watch you disappear in to the bathroom I can’t help but wonder…
where has all the romance gone?

Caught between Shakespeare and super ribbed latex I suppose.


July 16, 2007. men, sex.

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