Every party
was an after-party.
Some nights we'd even let
ourselves forget that dawn
would soon come. I do not want
what I haven't got. Mostly it did.
Sometimes the morn was met
less alone, her beauty & scent,
her buzzed head numbing your arm.
Once you start, how can you quit
all this remembering? We make
love like memories, if lucky
& not too late.
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