Scrolls down.
Two young women
take off their clothes
but keep on their stilettos.
They kiss but don’t mean it.
He can tell.
He sees the curve of red scars
under one girl’s breasts.
They take turns bobbing
between each other’s legs.
He doesn’t know why
he watches.
God, he and Betty used to swell
like ripe raspberries.
He rinses the glass.
His shadow walks by the night-light.
Leave a Reply