Window blinds rise to reveal the city.
Her fluttering eyelids unmask her prudent affection.
His drowsy lips reveal the teeth of his secrets.
His caution, like the buttons of her blouse, undone.
Skin on skin, fingers through fingers, tongues intertwined.
Her feet—toes curled up, sheets—hot and steaming, breath—insufficient.
And then it's cigarette smoke and then cars down below wandering aimlessly
While they sleep—space between them, sheets—cold, breath—shallow.
Towels, wet with old promises soaked up and discarded, dry in the bathroom.
Then sunrise, sunlight, silence, stiffness,
Creases and wrinkles, new secrets, new promises...
It’s a new day.
A different day.
A quiet day.