they come
and they go

like tides
like the moon
and the sun

when they come
they bring wine
they bring smoke
they bring lust and rage

when they go
they leave empty bottles
******* and cigarette butts
earrings in my sheets
and a mouldly taste on my tongue

every once in a while though
they clean up before they go
they take out the trash
and leave little notes on my dresser

when i wake up they are gone
my empty bottles are gone too
and their notes make me feel lonely

its not the way they show up
its the way they leave

i think i prefer the mouldly taste