miserere's profile

Brutt and beer stain the air As I veil me in Obsession and hands. He tango holds me fragilly Like I’m thin ice. He’s marble strength. I’m liquid drips As he glides my feet on sawdust. Neon beer signs and wrinkled men Spin blur away Until the jukebox Tracy Lawrence ends. I model walk away And hide mascara tears.

Legs limp over bed edge. Hands pillow his head. The graying black shirt flirts up. Hazel eyes sneak looks To the lickable stomach. She clenches on, White knuckling onto no. Red lamp light covers the corner room. Drakkar and sweat misted in the air. She clenches on, Snaking her tongue across his navel. Red nail polished fingers clutch ribs. More, Hands quiver for more, Only this time.

The oily street glosses with cold rain. Yellow lights guide the path. The wind spits On my black wool coat. An acoustic guitar Slowly plays my soundtrack While hands tuck into pockets. Winter clings at my lungs Like icicles grabbing at a roof. Quick paced up block after block, I rush To my close curtained apartment. I’ve only kept My Smiths cds from getting dusty. Portland winter air seeps In through window cracks As I lay on the once trashed sofa Cold like icicles.

Behind the post card tower I sneak eye shots. Brown bob haired girl Stands with hands stiff pocketed. The well-rounded bookstore salesman Continues with sly smiles And sweaty touches. I knight armor towards her. The shining armor clangs as we Reach violently blue skies. As post cards are bumped To the ground, Corner eyes see bobbed girl Tightening shoulders, Searching for Sir Lancelot.