Airports…baggage claims…hotel rooms

I bet they all look the same by now

The desolation of small towns tempering the temptation of big cities

Wherever you are, you are not always alone

Some nights you get lucky…and there she is

The thirty-second flavor

The wild ride for the night

The prize for a job well done

She will climb all over you like it’s recess in the schoolyard

Kiss your mouth with a fire that singes the scruff from your face

Scratch her nails down your back when you push deeper, harder, faster…

And you…You will tease her to the precipice over and over again

Through gritted teeth, you will groan her name…if you even know what it is

You will have each other for the night and in the morning exchange thank you’s and goodbyes

Meanwhile, I will take up smoking again

I will order one whiskey after another even though I don’t drink

I will wring ht glass dry for every last drop

Bloodshot eyes and whiskey breath, dragging myself home down familiar streets

To the apartment in the city where you are not

To the unmade bed where you don’t say my name through gnashed teeth

In the bedroom where there is no vindication

Some lucky ***** has you for a few hours

But it’s not me

Bartender, I’ll have another. And another. And another.