My eyelashes kiss my bottom lids. Just as I feel the soft tremble of REM, a door barks open, bell clanging like it had mistaken itself for something much more grand. Two girls walk in. They are wearing skirts that look painted on, taut leather stretched across severe hips. Their shirts dip down low enough to see the pale flesh of two dove like breasts. They are drunk. And it is two in the afternoon. I remember that I am two streets from the Bourbon and watch quietly as one of the girls pukes into a broken washer. I listen to them mewling and moaning, I do not move.
~
The girls are leaving now. I hope they learn just as I did. Don't plant sunflowers while the house is on fire. Don't wish on damned stars, twinkling like smiling babies and just as useless. Don't give anything away, especially yourself, especially yourself.
"like smiling babies and just as useless"
ReplyDeleteVery nice, love. Enjoyed this immensely. Keep writing please :)
"bell clanging like it had mistaken itself for something much more grand" is where is fell in love with this piece.
ReplyDeleteKeep up the good work--I look forward to them.