traces.
hot lights in the dark, eyes, hands, smoke and liquor. failing judgement, arching hips, skirts too short, eyes too bright, tangled hair, dripping sweat and fear of going home alone.
promises fade in the heat, the shining moment between two bodies; they collide, phermones and instinct and alcohol and the world melts away; lost.
find the shadows, tearing clothes, throwing bodies into hard concrete walls. ride it out, fierce and wild and free. promises mean nothing.
nothing.
the scent of her lingers, the smile, the cries, eyes shut, soft skin, the trace of makeup left on your cheek.
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There are no angels here. Only devils. Miles and miles of devils, and they are hungry, and they are patient.
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