Subtleties miss, offering freedom to nightly needs.
She sees the opportunity of revolution,
setting zippers off like shooting stars.
She looks to me for help in undressing
the regime of bottles that follows our emptiness.
Flipped collars and slipped tongues;
stubborn actions pinned against each other, still.
She dropped her palms with brilliance into mine
negotiating imminent attack to succor the faith
neither one of us ever seemed to feel in such chemistry.