your head
sinking in my lap,
my hands
in your hair
i don’t remember
much except
fireball exhale, and
the feel of your hair
through my fingers
again, again, and
the color red,
stoplights, maybe
and your slurred words
slipping through my skull
like my fingers slipping
through your hair
you confessed
you didn’t want me
to move, to leave,
what would you do
if i disappeared
all the things
we couldn’t do
if i stayed, begged me
to stay, begged me,
your hair mingling
with salt, bobbing
on my thighs.
today i asked do you
miss me, sober
you shrugged
i don’t really
think about you
at all.