Dark and well past midnight. A muted crimson from the cigarette illuminated his copper colored-skin in the half light. Quiet. We could hear each other breathe. In the near distance, down amid the obscure, long shadows off the empty street, the sound of four gunshots. Somewhere a dog barked. Under the blankets, we drew nearer, the warmth of his smooth skin, the softness of his hair, the pleasant smell of his torso. It stimulated me - smoothed me out.
I felt unreservedly calm as we entwined. Arm around my shoulder, head on his chest. I looked up, regarding the outline of his attractive features in the crimson glow of the cigarette’s cinders. Hooked nose, pouty lips, thick eyelashes, ebony hair hanging limply over forehead.
Outside the blankets, the room was ink black and cold with clothes thrown about the tiled floor. The smell of sweat and semen wafted in the stillness mixed with cigarette vapors - inside the blankets it was warm and still and serenísimo. Not a word exchanged, yet the feeling was there - a fellaheen feeling of togetherness as I had not felt since...
He put the cigarette out in the silver tray on the table next to the bed. He embraced tighter, drawing me near, placing a small kiss on my forehead. Slowly and surely, I heard his slight breathing as he fell asleep. I lay there and stared into blackness, out in the still night a lonesome train horn moaned - my hand gently slid up and down his thin side coinciding with his slow, steady breathing.