He was sitting on a white chair
in a deserted room on midday
I stood behind him
and we witnessed the crisp leaves falling
from an old mango tree outside-
the cold wind gently brushed our bodies

he lifted his right arm
pulled my hands to his chest,
my fingers were trembling
as though they were wilted stems
i tried to undo his grip-
but he was strong ,
his arms wrapped around me vise-like
and his kisses-
engulfing, devouring, hungry

he pushed me on the white wall,
his hands on my breasts as he hooked me,

as though angry waves were penetrating,
biting the white shore and recoiling
and crash

I gathered myself
in a cold embrace

his haunting shadows,
his breath echoing off the wall-

there were my silent tears,
a crumpled 500 peso bill,
tribal_rose_tattoosand a crimson dot on the floor

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