empty parking lots

i need skin against skin. i need dark eye lashes that keep secrets. i need lips, dry from whispering vowels. lips that carry messages, sometimes without speaking. i will make them wet.

i hear the floor creak and the indifferent hum of devices. when you get here, there will be music playing.

i dream of empty parking lots. the sky is planning colors. i wake up with an arm stretched into your space.