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Where I am the night, you are the day. I exist to hide everything, ugly or otherwise. Illuminating edges with my moonlight, light I only get because it refracts off of your perfect frame. God, you're everything. Shining into the inky depths of my soul with splits of sunbeams. I’m helpless, you rip me open, expose my heart and all its shadows. How do I hide from that?
The roar of the crowds rings in my head, a solid echo of a job well done. But as I suck in the smoke of my cigarette there’s still a heaviness aching in my skull, right behind my eyes. I want to call it a headache, insist it'll go away after a couple cigs and a proper rest. I already know better. I know when day breaks the sun won’t warm me, my thoughts won’t stop thudding. Right then, the metal door groans open and spits you out into the inky black alley beside me and my only company, a crooked street lamp.
"Havin' a ciggie without me then? I'm 'urt Al."
Despite your words, you laugh- god your laugh… and it just heals something in me. The thrumming behind my eyes stops. I forget the street light’s even there with the glow of your smile glimmering off the walls, bouncing straight into my heart.
I shift from boot to boot, aloof and rigid as a mumble past said cigarette.
"S'pose I am."
I feel the radiating warmth of you before your shoulder collides with mine.
"Well its not too late ta spare me feelins, love."
Despite myself, I crack a lopsided smile, the kind reserved for your eyes. My fingers search the abyss of my pocket and pull out my pack without a second thought. I know there’s only one cig in there, I always save that one for you, not that you'd know that. It's one of those little secrets I tuck away within myself and feel my heart race when it hides in plain sight. So visible to your light but so very subtle. Me and my pictures...When my vision refocuses out of the fog your slender fingers have carefully taken the bait again, balancing the cigarette with practiced ease. My gaze helplessly follows the stick, jealousy burning somewhere deep in the shadows of my mind when it grazes your lips. When they part, I catch a glimpse of that saw-toothed smile. A shock rolls through me, the ache it leaves in each muscle is divine. The little twitch in my neck I hide with a flick of my hair as I imagine the sensation of each sharp point sinking into my wanting flesh.
"Got a light? Forgot me lighter in the bus."
My senses realign, and as I search the abyss once more I can only pray the dim lights above us are kind enough to hide my burning gaze. The cold plastic settles into my hand, meeting the edge of your poison with sharp sparks. Once. Twice. Once again. No flame catches the sparks despite their insistence.
Clicking my tongue, I deadpan to you like this isn't a tragedy, a trap undone.
"S'outta juice, sorry Mi."
The cheeky grin I sported early curdles into a lemon bitter pout, sharp and unpleasant but not noticable for long, easy to write off. Or at least I hope it is. Just as I tuck the useless tool away I feel the shift of warmth in the air, the barely there squeak of your shoe as you shift your weight. The waft of your sweat and fading cologne overtakes me as the night air around you pushes past all else to invade my space. Suddenly my vision is so filled with you its blurring, but not like it does under the harsh lights of the stage, rattled by the din of the crowd. The only sound in this lonesome alley is the pounding of my fragile heart, cracking and ripping under the weight of any semblance that this is real. I'm enveloped by you as I feel a nudge to the end of my own cigarette, nearly forgotten between my chapped lips. The cigarette settled upon your lips shifts like mine, and I'm not strong enough to rip the association of a kiss from my handsy thoughts. The ache, the want so deeply rooted in my being dizzies me as you take what you need. You can have anything, you can take each soft fleshy fruit from me like a pomegranate and I will flow into you seamlessly. The light from my cigarette ignites yours and I can feel the deep burning in my lungs begging for release as I've forgotten how to breathe. The gift lasts mere seconds, and my bleeding heart only knows the soft echo of yearning as you step away. My lungs exhale. The foggy smoke fills the air and the sunbeams of your smile melt through it.
Despite the rattling of my inner world from such a simple exchange, I manage a breathy laugh.
"Got it all figured out huh?"
You lean against the wall again, and the air around me feels colder than it was. With a long pull from the cigarette, the smoke escapes you, and I watch the relief escape into your muscles.
Your sigh follows with a soft joke,
"I've been known fer ma creativity."
I breathe another soft laugh, then lean against the wall to support my weak knees. It's hard to imagine a world where you aren't my muse, and internally I grin at the irony of your statement. As the words die between us I return to the inky void of my inner world that I've painted with colours of you. I can hardly call it darkness anymore with how many holes of sunlight you've punched into my mind. Maybe tonight...just for tonight I'll bask in your light, if only for a moment.