Silhouettes

Their naked bodies are in the car
Finished with each other
The windows are fogged up 
And her hair is down in the dark
Almost a silhouette of her body
But the moonlight and streetlights come in
And her details are visible enough

She buttons her shirt as she stares downwards
Eaten from the inside by a ravenous dog of a feeling
But it’s time to move on
That’s what she’s been telling herself
What she’ll continue telling herself
Till the day she stops believing
When she realizes 
Sleeping with strangers
Is just a cheap high

As they get dressed 
She looks at him 
And they both smile 
He looks at what he hopes of her
Could she, be it?  
But she looks right passed him
Each with their own miseries
An off-pitch duet on a Saturday night
Slowly turning into silhouettes in a fogged up car.
    

Written by: Erick Carrada