No String Here, Just The Beads:

Driving home under a red heavy moon with an empty feeling inside, she was just another girl unnoticed, nameless and haunted.

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It's something about his skin that keeps her lips turning back, drenched in gloss and parted.

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I remember the smell of sweat and lilacs while we twisted on the sheets.

She never did it like you, he said.

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He grabbed her up and curled her against him and she gasped.

For a thousand reasons she said, don't drop me. The night flew by in a circle before her feet hit the floor -- just another girl on just another night. Am I right?

I waited for their fantasy to pass and their footsteps to fade before I locked the door.