"The Sexiest Thing"

I can only imagine what you must taste like, After a long day, on the night of a full moon;

Lying on the floor of your bedroom;

No chance given to scrub the sweat,

Blood of lonely off your torso.

I wonder if your tears reek of real,

Like if nakedness was trapped in a pitch-black room

You still would be able to feel it

Without fingers.

Vulnerability thicker than the concrete walls.

A scent of bravery lurks the apartment hallway.

There you lie in distress.

Unaware that you are blessed

Enough to have conquered

At least one of your demons

While you are still breathing