Numb fingers and face paint,
you bounce with excitement, ready
for a night of forgetting, well deserved.
As your body heaves in the pit
of castaways, sweat and vodka,
swollen ankles scarred from
the wrong shoes for the wrong person.
Matted hair and
the want to kiss just someone,
anyone, if I can find a single
decent one. Because kissing
doesn’t entitle you
to a place in my bed.
Maybe try another girl with her
eyes not quite in focus,
swimming with lost memories.

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