Waves of heat coupled with fragments of sound are slipping through the cracks in my windows. It feels like a violation of my senses, grating on passive cavities. I traveled over molten walkways and shining sidewalks the other day, all trapped inside my head.
Summer stirs and the wind blows and as I walk past a dumpster I can smell flowers and rot in it. All I can think is FLESH.
I see the bike punk with his cut off ragged skinny jeans and a violin case and my mind is flooded with startling visions of him fucking me bent over the concrete bike structure, screaming Defiance Ohio in my ear.
I saw the curve of his clavicles, sun trickling down his lopsided hair and into his moss green eyes.
My daily routine shattered by a meaningless stranger whose inner music stirred me, my heart hammering in my chest.
And it felt like a small urban betrayal.
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