She gave him lemons
that they squeezed over a floppy chicken,
then baked inside its soggy skin.
Later they ate the meet, their prying fingers
peeling off white strips for greasy mouths.
He gave her beer and wine and whisky,
coffee and tea,
hard bread and rough romano cheese.
They got high from a bud burning in a ballpoint pen.
At four am he took off her glasses,
uncovered eyes bare and bold.
Their faces wavered
but did not meet.
In the morning they woke curled head to foot,
sore and dry-mouthed on the couch.
He gave her a glass of water before she drove home,
thirsty for lemonade.
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