A Girl And Boy, Eighteenish

A girl and boy, eighteenish
Lie slung over and under the covers
Like summer lovers
Her sad shoulders covered
By thick arms.
She starts to think about putting on
Her white face manga eye make-up.
Her heart beats against
The soft belly of his arm.
He listens.

It beats, unbound:
A broken drum machine,
Her heart pressed into his own vein,
It scatters like she does.
The once slitted skin was a separation,
Now a cauterised roughness
Beneath his fingertips.

Eighteen and not a man,
Broad, churlish, wet-eyed fawn,
He listens as they scatter.