Strobe and wafering smoke,
And songs of sonic cogency.
Later, a pound for her rose before they stumble into a taxi,
Where tiredness is deeper than sleep,
I've only been in love once,
And fucked at will since.
He would turn over in another bed,
Disclose the meaning on his face
To a glass of water, or a family photograph
Oceans away, she casts a shadow in a bathroom,
Her thin nakedness robed.
She grinds the teeth he used to mock-kiss,
Her pink fingers brushing ash from cashmere.
Intimacy substitutes intimacy for intimacy:
We call every new one the best,
And repress the dead bodies,
The truer love, the dormant perfume
Waiting for your stomach on a stranger at traffic lights.