straight out the block, baby — pussy where you been, my midnight map, my dick hittin' red lights, you ghostin' the route, I been drivin' solo, tyre screechin' for your touch. since march the streets been empty, neon cold, I learned to touch myself in alleys of want, thinkin' of your mouth like ripe strawberries — sweet, wet, sticky with caramel promises. come december, I bring warm pockets full of time, we gon' open doors like new bottles, no caps, holiday lights hangin' like your breath on my neck, I wanna taste that sugar, taste your map of scars. lay me down on your pavement of silk, baby, let the city hush while our bodies talk back, my hands learn the grammar of your name, slow, translate hunger into a language you speak. we gon' trade stories under blanket-sky, you teach me the corners where pleasure hides, I’ll pay tuition with kisses, cheap and honest, learn every alleyway your hips wanna show. fuck the price of love, I got loose change — pennies for rhythm, notes for late-night hymns, we spend the whole holidays makin' up for lost maps, measure time by the heat of our matching breaths. after we finish, we’ll lie like two squatters— claimin' the bed as a neighborhood we defend, I want you closer than regret, deeper than habit, know you better than the backstreets of my past. so come through in December, babe, bring the key, unlock every locked-up summer in my chest, we'll set the new year on fire with small, soft kisses, and taste each other slow — strawberries, caramel, and trust.