he fucks me
then he leaves me
i wrap the blanket around me
twice for that extra memory

i see patterns in the stains
of your erected return
alone i listen to every
key outside the door

someday these blank eyes will
stop missing you
i shall crawl out from your skin
crash into the real world

you'll probably light a cigarette
and think about Sartre
this futilely worn out love
that dresses us like fools

and wraps me even tighter
thinking about you

gone