batch of white russians
one night.
and dimmed the lights.
put on some
al green
and we made out on the couch
until our
lips hurt and our
pelvis were
chaffed.
she was drinking too fast,
one after another
and eating shrimp on top of that.
she asked me if the room
always spins like this,
then she got up and went into
the bathroom
were she lay there for a few
hours moaning.
i tried to open
the door, but the weight
of her
lying on the floor was
too much.
are you okay, i asked her?
are you coming back
out, or do you need a pillow
and a blanket?
she said, i can't hear the music,
can you turn it up
a little. so i did.
eventually she came out,
and i helped her
up the stairs to the guest
room,
then blocked the stairs
in case she
woke up and tumbled down.
the next morning, she staggered
out without a sound.
leaving a note, asking why
i poisoned her.
sometimes things just don't
work out.
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