We're the speckles in concrete, some necks
more immune against the two-faced sun -
different flavours of chewing gum
sticking to each other's hands
like a silent promise, drenched in perspiration
as the prayer for rain remains stuck on repeat.
Nobody's told us how time can be corrosive,
sweat to our unknowing lover's necklace,
eating away all shimmer till rust unveils itself,
because life's as true as love can be momentary,
and it takes clammy hands and mass meltdowns
to have fabric closer to skin than kisses have ever been.
