his oxfords stroll down
piano key sidewalks
stepping to quarter notes
noir film
thoughts smoldering
behind him in cigarette smoke
and i think
in another life
we would have fallen in love
during wartime
Categories
Tag: Romance
Categories
tired hooker
better heads
have prevailed
the veil irreparably torn
upon considering
your invitation
a notion
while provocative
shiny in it’s candy wrapper
evaporates into ether
when the reality is unfolded
i see another woman’s panties tucked under your carriage’s seat
so i’ll save these glass slippers for another knight
as a matter of fact
the mere idea of taking your coachman’s hand
makes this cinderella
feel less like a princess swept off her feet
and more like a tired hooker
the first time
i saw his face
was
a moment suspended
within the milk of a star lit morning
deep beneath
layers of winter
my tightly cut
snow glistening
wool coat and garbo scarf
glided through quarter notes
on the moving street
he turned to face me directly
as i came closer
his eyes forgot everything but mine
one look
and i knew
that i’d been going about it all wrong
i raised my brow
with a sultry smile
and said
good morning
in such a way
that made him want to hear it
spoken
just like that
into his ear
as he entered me
for centuries
Categories
love affair
we were driving
near the water
i was green
with a lack of land
begging him to veer away from lighthouses
he never let me drive
but it was okay
because it was one of the ways
he was older than me
and i counted on him for that
leaning in he notices
my pearly white painted fingertips
resting against the tan leather of the car
and says
your nails are beautiful
i say the color is called
love affair
and he says
of course it is, baby girl,
of course it is…