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When you were strung outand I kissed youI imagined your moutha mound of cocaine,inhaling your breathlike powder as I pushed into you and you pulledme with your bruised thighs.Some nights we fucked soslowly I dissolvedlike a Quaalude in a glassof vodka, and you drankme down. We kept the room dark,so we could not seeeach other with our eyesrolled back – or was itbecause we did not wantto see ourselves.It’s taken me too long to thinkof that, the way we neverthought the other would go,and then one nightI woke upsoberand yes,still there.