what do you call an escape if you never meant to get away?

Approach under the streetlight unwanted like salvation pouring from a pulpit beyond the individual illuminated unwavering curtains of light the dark seemed infinite only sound cut through respirations of life rising and falling voices two blocks off i see her at the balcony hair in hallow gold curls lips in a smirk exposed skin at the shoulders and long legs i see and she sees and her smirk breaks into a smile and my insides twist and everyone can see a pitcher of lynchburg lemonade bleeds through the iron wrought tables the girls smash spent cigarettes into ashtrays the tabled cluttered with the over turned shot glasses upon which we had counted coup in the brief moment between what was and what will be we have budded and bloomed and we stave off the inevitable withering with each choral wave of laughter skin drawn taunt over spine my fingers trace innocent shapes everyone talks we kiss order drinks engage disengage fingers at the back of my neck our companions shoot us amused looks we are apathetic i am enthralled she is aware all along circling conversations like vultures await the death knell of the night the last lovely note of the ignored guitarist each shift of her hips on my lap intentional look back over bare shoulder a knowing barb a carefully executed ploy and affection brushing of lips at the neck i quickly bite her exposed ear discretion feigned shock her cruel smile that feeling in my stomach she grabs my jaw eyes lock a brief unnoted moment we have crossed a line the issue is not behavior the last note the emptiness of air we turn to tabs everyone pays in cash there is a shuffle of chairs there are lights in the trees that never shed leaves in absence of music the garden collapses.

after midnight one's own heart is the only thing more treacherous than a girl's smile

they drift away, without saying goodbye, fade away like ghosts. the crowd never thins, or never seems to, he would just look up from time to time to realise that he knew less and less of the people in pulsating mob of drunken bodies. he couldn't blame them, sneaking off to perform their midnight vespers of the flesh and teeth. he knew that was how she would leave, she had done it so many times before, slipping out between the reverb, leaving only the slightly bruised semi circular indentions of her teeth, from when she had bitten him a handful of moments before, on his left pectoral. he saw it happen. had a moment, a few poundings of the 808 to decide, swallowed most of his drink on the way to the door behind her. she had cut across the near empty street, he imagined she had crossed quickly pacing the strides of her long lovely legs. ten steps back from her he called her name not much louder than a whisper. she turned, her face one of poorly feigned surprise. it was all a game, he knew that: arrive, taunt, tease, flee, be chased, be caught, flee again. any of the disdain that should have been present at such an obvious confirmation of all his previous assumptions was gone though as soon as she leaned into his chest.