The call of night to fool around and forget my problems is sublime.
The moonlight shining on me is relaxing.
My eyes get caught between the two-faced sides of the neon light.
Midnight takes me far away from the bumbling noise of the city, with bloodshot eyes I listen to the lullaby for grown-ups.
Night after night I keep on fucking my life.
Drinking in an alleyway, I saw her.
Her pink braided hair forced me to look at her with awe and makes me want to know her.
Her blue-colored eyes which looked like the deep blue ocean looked at me blankly.
Covered in a black trench coat, her short stature towered above me.
"Wanna do something fun? " she asks in an erotic tone.
Drunk and hazy, I foolishly said "Yeah, sure."
She grabbed my hand and dragged me to her house.
Drunk and hazy I sat down, while her black trench coat is laying on the floor.
She stood in front of me clothed in a revealing black crop top and black shorts.
Her white skin looked like porcelain.
Drunk and hazy, I couldn't handle it anymore I laid down on her floor.
I looked over her with a blurred vision, she then stepped over me.
No, she mounted me and led my hands into something new.
Her physique and scent were alluring, her porcelain-like skin fitted well into the silence that was present.
Despite being drunk and hazy, I was drawn in and submitted myself to her beckoning.
Music began to play, she revealed more of her porcelain skin.
Despite being drunk and hazy I could feel her hands moving around me.
"Do you find this fun? " she whispered in my ear in an erotic way.
I couldn't reply, the feeling was new to me.
This was new to me.
Still mounting me, she leaned her face close to mine and stole a kiss.
"This is the night boy, anything can happen."
She's still on top of me, I can feel her lips pressing against mine.
"Do you like the night? " she whispered in my ear.
I nodded as she smirked and got up.
"Well then, let's indulge ourselves in the night."
"Together? "
"Together."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem