On Wednesday nights I
drink a little too much
and become obsessed with the lines
of my palms, yours.

I count the bottle caps and wonder
How many it takes to get
Your clothes off.

We should have kept a tally going.
We should have been softer and
Turned some music on.

I laughed as we crossed the street.
I shivered and you shrugged but did not
Take your coat off.