Teenage stuff forever, by Eva h.d
You can continue doing this teenage stuff forever. You can sit on the road in the perfect summer dark and listen to a married man rail against the prison he has built for himself. It's the same street where you sat and smoked at fifteen, listening to a boy describe his father's rage, the bruises, the lonely why. They could be the same man. The man already jealous of his toddling son, the boy cowering from his father. It could be the same night, that June damp, the desire to touch the face of someone beautiful with your rotten, perfect mouth
