Addie craves fire. Swings methodical across the room like solving a mathematical equation. Shoves hands into worn jean pockets like beggars searching. Upturns empty as she opens his lips with a kiss full of tongues and teeth and the theoretical underpinnings of a life without dualism. She's done with two sided coins. He tastes of just her brand of two day old cheap whiskey and the recent consummation of the effort of a half empty pack of Marlboro Reds. Skin shudders indelible ache. This unnavigable island pressed flesh against flesh. She pushes hard heels of palms to hip bones. Back. Whispers the words warning signs inside her mind the way he would have the afternoon he left her thinking he could crawl back into her always open arms. His ears and mouth always problematic with the esses. Her finger tips slip the dead bolt locked. The sound like the click of her teeth nights grinding for sleep.