Staring at Me

"Staring at Me"

The night air chills my cheeks

as I pull a cigarette from a pack

I keep in my 

inside coat pocket.

I need to quit 

but tonight 

it's like a ritual

and this is my prophet.

The city is silent

and the streets 

are cold with moisture

so I need to suck in

my nicotine

before I join her.

I pull up my collar

as I walk the frigid night again,

     And think to myself that last time

     was going to be the end,

     that it wasn't going to happen again,

but here I am walking 

these streets one more time

along the same route

I've done 

     dozens of times before.

She calls and I come.

My body craves it

and I can't quit it.

The sex is too good.

But I know what this is,

If I have only one purpose

in this existence,

     it's not this

But I'll be damned

if I don't sell my soul

Every chance I get.

I fucking love it.

She melts through my flesh

and finds my essence

in its more basic forms,

My body is my Own

but she can command it

when I hand over control.

Knows everything about me

in its carnal shapes.

But beyond

the tangled mess

of flesh and sweat

she knows nothing about me.

I take it as a compliment

that she craves me as well,

but

I just know

I can't do this again,

it has to end,

but tonight I'll give in.

I suck in a final puff

from my cig

before throwing it on the ground

and stepping on it,

She's laying on the bed

staring at me

when I finally walk in.

-Armando Torres