fuck.

while waiting for your to arrive i chat with

strangers with good grammar and use

of words beyond their years. i imagine

your breath will taste of wine and cheap

cigarettes. if you make it here. if you do,

i hope you stay.

-

you left me with some wrinkled papers and i'm

fingering them thinking of the ways that you could

twist my arm. indian burn. indian giver.

there is nothing here that you would want.

i'm still wearing your shorts and when i

give them back they will smell of me.

-

can you put your legs behind your head?

will you put my legs behind your head?

-

you drove four hours to stumble into my bedroom.

-

& if you can ignore the rats in my hair

we can fuck again.