попутчик ~ {ii}

iii.
the sun marched clockwise across the tomorrow-beard  
casting its shadow across your jawline.  
you were just another waiting façade, half-hidden between the rims of teacup & an ushanka  
as lupine grey as your eyes;  
just another breath puffed across the moskva,
waiting.  
 
ii.  
your tongue was warm and hot chocolate sweet against my own,
there at the corner of pekarska  
while the world slept, oblivious to my insides shattering
beneath your questing hands.  
i followed you thru the wet streets
as their northern neon shimmer disappeared when the lights dimmed.
the powder blue wall was black against midnight, frozen beneath my spine.  
 
i.
night fell into the horizon.  
i licked the exertion from the column of your throat,
felt your reflexive swallow beneath my lips  
& tasted the unspoken goodbye.