Come morning, rotten morning...

After he came again, he wiped off my back with the same towel. I rolled over & was lying directly beneath the hole. There was still that same blind spot in the ceiling where any eye could easily perch & watch us sprawled out below, Stefan struggling for some kinda way to be free of me. I wish he knew it's not just about the climax: who watches a movie just for the ending? Of course, a bad ending can ruin anything. But there's no reason to start it just to see it come to an end. He told me to stop looking at the hole. No one's watching us through it, he said. Two girls live up there. Haven't you heard them walking around late at night in their heels, listening to their shitty pop, getting primed for an after-party somewhere? Hoping they don't come back tonight. Betting their souls on it. But they're German girls, he said, they'll come home tonight. They come every night & forget to take off their heels, clacking around up there, laughing about all the old timers who tried to put their tongues down their throats. They're not as bad as American girls: the one place they sleep at the least is their own. I told him to shut the fuck up & he said okay but only if you admit that you're all whores over there. The true sluts among the women of this world. I rolled on top of him & grabbed him by the balls. No one ever mentions what we do to men once we've used them up, I said. Once they're no good to us. What do you do, he asked. That same portrait smile on his lips. We destroy them & move on to a better one. But one day, he said, you'll be too old & ugly to do that & you'll be the one who's passed up for someone better. My grip got tighter as his smile disappeared, the disbelief that I would hurt him fading from his face & then I felt something cold on my back. He grabbed my arms & pinned me to the bed. Flakes of the ceiling had scattered all over us, turning to dust as we rolled around in the sheets.