such a creature of my bad habits
but I repeat such good in you after this

your heartbeat like the quick of a revolver
while you slept
like I was inside, spinning until
I began counting us down
and
wondering how many bullets you'd saved

I drank from
the shot glass of your palm
& you made me
come
you made coffee

we went from
south to ocean
mountain to whiskey
with hands full of
what it is we're calling this
& I have your dress
but
what kind of souvenir is worry ?

your hand in the car
I could put us both in my mouth
and still make room for you
your mood filling my lungs with
bleeding
with
ignoring tomorrow &
I ignored that with whiskey

& I am certain you don't know that it killed me
to kiss you goodbye again