the suggestion made by an unkempt bed
the absence of prolonged sighs;
and the sound of footsteps
is chilling.
civilization creeps in the window
along with a stuttering breeze
        sifting the ashes
caress me, hold me, do not leave me

clothing graciously tossed at my feet
staring at the ocean green carpet—
head on knees;
        heart on floor.
where do we start picking up the pieces
certainly not at this intermission
as the car door closed
and engine started
seems the game is already done
but there are no winners
there are no champions
only bodies driving and falling away.