we bought it
and inhaled deeply
in a small room
with no windows
until we all felt
the couch fold
its arms around us
while we sunk
so far down
that nothing we said
would matter
and it was this night
that we became foolish
with our kisses
and left small
pock-marked bruises
on one another’s necks
singing the foolish things
we always wanted to hear
as we sang around a piano
with six snapped strings
and a few missing keys
while sharing a jug of wine
which traveled us
on a one-way trip
from brain to bladder to toilet
where we found ourselves slouched
against linoleum-floor and tiled-wall
without clothes
kissing once more
until we wore eachother out
and woke without dreams the next morning.


An earlier version of this poem is available in print through Mosaic 31st Edition 2008 through the Ohio State University.