I never cry after sex

"Just a little further,
let's see what's up ahead!"
Standing on a bit of compact earth
with only sea
and night
and wind
and arms around me,
I savor every bite before I tell you.

Before you suddenly stop chewing and
slowly,
politely even,
spit me out.

Cleverly, efficiently, subconsciously:

A girl from the past.
A girl from the present.
A girl from the future.

The One, perhaps.
Not me, clearly.
Italy.

Punch, punch, punch.
Ticket taker,
train conductor,
punching time and date and destinations
that are over
on my heart.