it's 3am, and we have yet to sleep... or even talk for that matter...
i see us now.
cigarette smoke escapes from between your pleasing lips, and you smile, turn to me, and mouth "i.love.you."
we are laying in the mess that we so sinfully made.
your sweat.
my hair.
"round 3?" i propose.
You put out the cigarette, not even nearly half done... your silent way of accepting.

oh merciful god. please forgive us for what we are about to do...
again.