The cranberry juice twinge
of your
water eyes
blurring into t.v. blues,

you're on the edge
of his bed
and it's obvious
you're still thinking
it was yours
for a while.

A short while.

You're tired,
levitating
above the legal percentage,
seeing everything
in doubles.

You're staring too hard
too long
and trying not to know
that neither on of him
will ever come
back.