Untitled #20

The sun kills us
In ways neither one is expecting
Or able to compensate for

He starts to plug in
And distort
While I search the toxic faces
For useful phone numbers
And outlets that better suit
This extensive learning experience

Then we make separate plans
Mine falling through
On account of pets,
Fate
And obscene interventions

Then the person I tried to forget calls
Stuck in a similar empty space
Shepherding the channels
With the numerous buttons
On the new remote control

We meet up
With plans of catching up
On each other's lives

And soon I am unable to contain my words
Mouth melting into cheeks and dimples

He's much less sweeter than I expected
Seasoned,
Cold,
And above everything else
Incredible

I swear I see Jesus Christ by the end
Before we both light cigarettes
And blow smoke
Out of my open my bedroom window
The idea of us will soon dissolve in a similar hazy fashion.

- C.W.