That Kind Of Woman

I like to lose my lipstick
on the mouth of a beer bottle.

Pick delicately at the label,
usually damp from the sweat that collects. 
Excitement hidden
behind a bored face
as I see that maybe
just
maybe 
the label will come off clean.

If it doesn’t
I feel like my night,
or at least until I get a new bottle,
will be chaotic. 

The label makes it 2/3rds of the way
then tears
the breath I was holding
comes out in a huff.

Another label too stubborn
to come loose
under my careful fingers.