as we lie sate,
in the sand.
postcoital
depression, begins.

this quickie, in
the sandhills, on
the beach.

well, while it
scratched the itch.
it left the soul,
bereft of connection.

we two just,
almost, known,
strangers,
made s.e.x.
lust,
the primary need
love,
a bystander,
at the freak show.

antipathy rises,
a dragon ravaging,
my soul.
as my co conspirator
stands, zips and staggers
away.

is the anger...
directed at him,
a rampant manniquin.
or myself,
an accepting needing
cavern.

darkness, wrapped
about in self doubt
i rise
and rearrange myself,
donning my disguise,
of carefree debutante.

i am the ultimate
partygirl.
i walk back to the
beat of the  music.
leaving behind,
one more scrap,
of my dignity.