We sleep together quickly

under the blanket

(we made love last night;

anything else would be too hard.)

Together we're bones double jointed

and the goose bumps on his arms

harden

across my back

flesh

is still cold skin

until you finish with me.

We're blood

boiling

like breath

calculated

but not yet breathed.

We drink cheap Champagne in paper cups

and swallow

Oreo's

like kids again.

We dunk our childhood

inside the alcohol

until we get numb enough to say goodbye.

We hold hands

like we're five-hundred miles apart

and still going...

Before I left

I stained my lipstick

like a tattoo

on his cheek

for some other women to find someday

(like an animal,

I mark my territory well;

every other girl

will fear to tread

where I have gone.)

There's nothing left

between us

now.