ONE NIGHT IN…

LOS ANGELES

I didn’t know him, but I still flew in.

I’ve never been to LA and Hollywood lights were more beckoning to me than the ones in Times Square.

So like a moth to a flame I flew west.

It’s ironic, you went by the name of my demise too. A down low producer trying to make it.

Your flow was smooth, but our pace was fast.

Your voice was deep and I fell down down down. Hoping for a soft landing.

The only thing I wanted to reflect in the irides of my eyes were yours.

The things that you whispered in my ear were sweet, and your body felt sticky.

Love bloomed. Or so I thought…

The next morning I woke up in the coldest bed on July 24th.

You averted my gaze and told me this was all a mistake.

It wasn’t me… It was him… blah blah blah

How fucking cliché.

The voices in his head told him it was wrong, it was a sin.

And the voice that came out of my mouth told him go fuck yourself.

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