Youth, or the fleeting thereof
10/28/2015 § Leave a comment
She takes one long drag of the cigarette
then wears the smoke over her face like a veil.
THERE IS NO EVIL, claims her neck tattoo
ablaze & glazed with neon sweat.
She won’t stay out long; already in her eyes
there is unrest, a hunger & a yearning
for the pull & heat of bodies other than her own,
for the rattling of bones in skin-packed darkness,
for the loud thumping music of synchopated hearts.
Is this how the young endure their youth,
bounded together by bodily graces,
each affirming the other by touch, kiss, fuck
(But O, bright one—will you not look up and see
You will always be young?)