I was late to my good-bye party,
and when I looked at you looking at me
I saw your hurt, and shame, and sadness
mixed with the confusion of the night,
the people drinking, looking at us,
looking at her, who walked in with me.
She might as well have been a cyborg terrorist,
or a goddess climbing down the ladders of the heavens,
or a murder scene.
Everybody was terrified;
I made a cocktail.