you say "**** it"
and you leave me at the bar.
I can see the first cigarette
you've had in weeks
being lit in the post-midnight
Joplin air.
and I toss my head back
and let ***** hug my veins
and rock me into the space
where all the edges are soft
and the air is twice as thick,
making the space between
the bar and the sidewalk
that much apparent.