In the dark,

Absolute dark,

Of the basement apartment

Of a friend of mine

And yours

I lie

Half awake

In a post-club stupor

Brought on by

Gin and weariness

Ears ringing slightly

But still hearing your breathing

And hers.

An odd situation

To say the least.

My arm

Draped across

Your waist,

Hands touching

Fingers intertwined

(occasionally)

Unsure if this is yours

Or that is hers

Feeling the reawakening

Of the primal

That knowledge

So easily assayed

When we were young

That the fit

Of our bodies

Is not happenstance

But is,

In fact,

Directly correlated

To the whims

Of the universe.

When we wake awake,

Alone,

But still cloaked in darkness

Unsure of what to do next

We reenter

The world of the living

Uncomfortable

But the occasional touch

Allowing us

To relive those moments

For a brief period of time.