High and Dry

I came to share the evening
not this other scene
he set
with his gear, matches , spoon
and light-altering candles
I’ve been in the dark
about his hobby use
“Thanks, no thanks” Slapping skin awkwardly
drawing without cotton ball
with his aim shaky
I had to offer
“Why don’t you start
further down your arm,
in case you botch it?”
He jabbed through clumsily, “shit!”
then pulled out ,dripping on
expensive upholstery
yelling at his stupidity
then softening, “help me”
“please, c’mon, please”
Me and my big
“Here” breaking skin sliding in flashback relief
stuff half-cooked hard to push
what’s flowing out
scarier than what’s going in
I held his hand
He held his breath not knowing what I would do
Both submissive, silent
transfixed on my moves
In a personal vein
He sat back, relieved,
all shame forgotten
Hated myself for doing him
Why invite then exclude?
Now in his own world
His mind a vacant room
Left him high
Left dry
with the sour aftertaste
Of a bad hit

---

Return to CONTENTS