Memory

i can't remember climbing
off you
afterwards

i fell asleep didn't I
and don't remember the tenderness
if there was any

i don't remember the laughter
when we were interupted
by a phone call
which you answered

when i awoke
i couldn't remember climbing
into your bed

or tearing clothes
from eachother
was it frenzied
i can't remember

i remember the drinking
the laughing in the bar we met
the stumble home
your key fumbling
the half arsed attempt
at making coffee

i feel bad
because i don't feel bad
about not
remembering