7:30pm by Aiden Brown

I wasted a lot of my time wishing

for someone to spend my favorite time with.

Pink painted skies, made for lazy kissing

as the sun fades, promoted the soul myth.

Two souls: without one mind interwoven.

There was nothing but gritty bodies, bare.

The reality of gentle lovin’

cascaded into my lungs and wept there.

Real partners float together when the air

turns rotten, sulfur lingers, and breaths thin.

They’re more than hands that wander, but you’re fair.

Sour fears sopped with intimacy grin,

I hold your hand, without attack. I’m glad you’re clutching

me as the sky turns dark red.