"Any place that's empty, to boast."

You said, “Any place that’s empty, to boast.” Then my heart started throbbing, my brain firing impulses to my hands to grab the car keys to fold the distance between us. I don’t even give a damn that I took no shower, that my hair resembles a shameful one-night encounter. I just need you to get in the car. I decide to take you somewhere that grew to be desolate, yet the sea still finds itself attracted to it.

Your face looks at me in confusion. You say, “Any place that’s empty, to boast”. I begin, my fingers bending into a fist as I grip the sides of my shirt, raising it over my head and out of my body. The edge of your mouth twitches into a smirk and you move to paw my breasts, but I stop you. I remove more articles of clothing until I am left in my underwear, and I say, “Empty, to boast.”

We slink away into the back seat, filling the empty four-seater.

What was once empty, unoccupied, now becomes a thicket of limbs that enclose to become one.

Author's Note

Prose-poem. Was it too much? Is there too little, image-wise? Is the language smooth?