Her sun

dried belly

stirred under

the morning

covers.


as I

leave our

bed,


her favorite

dark chocolate

wrappers

crinkled beneath

my feet,


as I crossed

the floor.


half filled

glasses of

*** lie

slain

on our

bedroom

nightstand


testimonies

to our

time and

dreams well

spent together.


no names

exchanged.


no ****** or

emotional

scares,


it was a mutual

midnight negotiation

based on

the one

reality that

last night

neither one

of us wanted

to go

home alone.


we were

pirates of

sorts.

living and

loving through

desperate

times.

conquests

and surrenders,



sometimes you

just can't

tell the difference

between the

two.


and other

times it

hits

you naked

right

between

your eyes.