the youth decay

remember the honey-dipped sound of sin, stretched
out through smoke-drenched sorrow, where strangers
danced to the backbeat of 80s music tickling their
hips. remember how i burned with fire as my hands
stayed curved along the icy cold slopes of slippery
cocktails. remember the sound of alarm clocks and
grown children scrambling for their mothers, masked
in youth and perfumed skin. remember how you looked
at me to see yourself because all of the mirrors were
broken and you saw how beautiful you were. remember
the moment you turned your back and i whispered "lust"
because i knew you wouldn't hear. remember the empty
conversations that echoed through the scandals taking
place in the room next door, down the street, and on cell
phones. remember life as a perfect narrative succumbing
to imperfection once the lines begin to blur. remember
the wet sound of truth quenching the thirst of dried-up
lovers before eventually bathing in little white lies. i will
remember my fingernails on strangers leaving marks on
the decay of the night.