Around an armful of
pillows and blue blanket
you offered a parting hug.

I stepped into an embrace
that was lint speckled polyester
and the width of your hand spread
open at the small of my back.

We were infatuated children
pecking kisses innocently on cheeks
to express sincere emotion
rather than as a prelude
to the symphony of stirring sheets.    

We were lopsided in structure.
Me with my right arm scraping
the outcrop of your shoulder.
My left tucked under your armpit
snagging the loose folds in your shirt;
while your forearms cradled  
blue softness and half my ribs.

One one-thousand, two one-thousand
counted before we pulled apart gently
disentangling your fabric from mine.

And with a foot of concrete between
our feet we grew up once more.
Re-learning the warm colors of
violence and ***.
The cool colors of
drinking and drugs.