Muted Moments

Warm piss. Cold genitals. It's time to breathe again. Close your eyes. Open your mouth. Taste it.

Always anticipating the next one. And the one after that. It's time to sleep. Without the covers over your head. Find another way to keep the light out and the darkness in.

It's the length. It's the width. Everything inside. No perimeter.

It's not a dream.

The choke of dismissal as you auction off another friend.

It's not love. As your skin shivers with approval. Just something that wears its skin.

You're still awake. You never sleep.

Carrying your cage wherever you go. Never aware of what's inside it.