.
I was tired.
It was late.
I was an American in St.Petersburg,
breathing air so cold it
froze my eyelashes.
Nadia, the bartender,
poured me a tall glass of
vodka
that burned my throat, but
warmed my chest.
Late, she shared her callused hands and
soft hips
then
sang me to sleep
I didn't expect the handcuffs
It was late.
She was Russian.