Flesh And Fluids

In a dark room with flickering lights, melting wax and broken heart He stands lonely after a sweaty encounter with her, she's all of eighteen Flesh and fluids, all have been mixed up and exchanged. There's the smell in the room that same yet different smell of flesh and fluids Both of them are young and beautiful and there are many like them on Saturday night of October But nothing will ever be same... The moon at the three o'clock in the balcony, the smoke rising from his Marlboro and her languid bony, body under white sheet A pair of moist eyes fixed at the ceiling, Moments, passing yet not passing, There will be many more nights and many more women and men in beds of hotel rooms But there will never be the same smell, moon, Cigarette butts and a woman staring at the blank ceiling The laundry will be dirty... Souren Mondal November 1,2015