The room was small;
There was street graffiti on the wall
And a bed next to it;
They were both on the bed
And he was on the top of her;
To her,
It was peculiar with this boy,
She couldn’t stop gazing,
At the face expressions he had.
In the face as he was making his way into her;
She knew,
She would remember this moment;
His ****** expression was dear;
It was as if the waves were splashing,
One by one, against the shore
And made white foam;
His young face was in bliss,
In torment,
In joy,
In ecstasy;
He was stuck in and was suffering, flying;