The Black Cassette

We spent the summer in his room. We spent the summer in his gloom. Feverish and celibate, listening to the black cassette, listening to the black cassette. I would come by after work. I worked as a drug store clerk. I would bring him cigarettes, and listen to the black cassette, listen to the black cassette. Listen. He's staring off into the bookcase. I'm painting stars upon his face. Divining our state of disgrace. Listening to the black cassette, listening to the black cassette, and waiting for Halloween, waiting to put our boots on. It's never like the books you've read. Sitting there beside his bed. In my prom dress and pink barrette, listening to the black cassette, listening to the black cassette. Listen, listen, listen...