Monday, February 23, 2009

I'm at the bar




I’m at the bar
waiting for my drink
Amaretto Stone Sour
without the cherry
the straw is thin
the ice is cold
the glass is sweating
beads of crystal clear
wetness trickle down
you are near me
near enough to touch
and so I do
with my body
I press against you
your crooked smile
and see-through stare
give me an invitation
to dance
we move, entangled
like the smoke from my
cigarette
I can feel your heart
beating while mine
I feel breaking
like the glass
that holds my drink
I’m shattered in pieces
left on the floor
for you to collect and
repair.

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