When she’s drunk, her laugh dances and tumbles like a Russian bear and I am helpless against it. Reds follow purples and greens rain down after it. She says that it always feels like this, that it’s supposed to tear you apart but I don’t know if I’m supposed to believe her or not. And even though my heart beats fast and the music shakes something loose inside of me, just because she wants it too, I’m never enough.

I prefer it when she’s moving fast away from me, first legs then arms held high, welcoming the sky’s wet embrace and gone again, her pink shoes and that soft truffle winking my fingers long to walk through. She pinches my nose and all color snaps out of my face as she pours it down my throat. My eyes close. When I walked out the door, I just casually said, “see you in Valhalla”, and I just kept saying it after that.

Were you paying attention?