Untitled

this was where we layed -
an old room in an old town
north of the waves breaking
along the shore.

the air smelt of salt,
mold and stale sperm.
the seagulls roared in a
caucophonous symphony.

and through the curtains
the last of the light faded
as our legs entwined.

it had come to this -
inhibition seething
like maggots over bones;
but in the end your taste
died on my tongue.

wrapped in your doubts
i sighed for the
implications of us
as i listened to the
slow rhythm of your heart.