Love Me If You Dare plays
on the tattered lace of the movie screen
as you drag your nimble hand 
against the quarter of my thigh.

You whisper false French in my ear
as the light pops against the other couples
and in the silence there I moan,
proof of your industry.

We bought the tickets to odd glares
and sat together, two men, third row
center, and before the tin hit the concrete
you were hot against my body in a kiss.

Your whiskers scratch my face
as a reel is changed,
and on the screen (flick)--
another cigarette burns.

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