Black batons on grey bars, sliding metallic like xylophones. Clink. Chime. Clink. Chime. It’s the man’s favorite tune for his concrete jungle and ...hipped iron cells… torturing souls to bitter bleak madness.Warm hands ease legs apart and warmer mouth pulls flaccid meat to hardened life. I twitch at the touch, so unfamiliar, so unrepentant.Too much.Too soon.Blackened soul forgets meaning of intimacy.I yank at the cuffs. Growl. Reactions taken to mean one thing when really, they mean the tragic. They walked arm and arm up to the bar and got some drinks; both still fully naked. I saw several men were around them, hands were all over Ana…My wife then walked to the back and got her skirt and blouse; but she looked around like she was really enjoying the attention. And the men of course enjoyed the fact that she was naked… I thought that I was going to come in my pants watching her. Ana looked around like she was looking for a place to sit. She mentioned to her new partner that there were. More

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