decedance of shadows

hold still, he says and puts
his finger over my
lips.

he leaves the room and
greets his mother in
the kitchen where he gave me altoids
and a cocky kiss some amount of time before,
an hour, two days, it doesn't matter and
i can't remember.

the shadows are moving on the floor.

i smell fear, a harmony
of lines.

i taste petron and
a hint of toothpaste.

the clock in his room
doesn't move.

i didn't know this the first time as i
lay beneath him wondering
how long it would
take to finally be over
gritting my teeth
i didn't know about how
the shadows move and the
clock holds its breath.

and me
i hold my breath
for centuries, eons.
i am still but the sun isn't.