Heartlines

leftovers

i could smell

the sweet scent of vanilla

coming from your shirt;

see the wrinkles left

by obscene and wanting hands;

feel the effects of the

cheap shampoo from

the shameful places you've been;

taste what she has defiled

of your pretty little sinful lips;

hear the same promises

that you've moaned into her ear.

i always get the leftovers.