She smelled like the morning after, and her face looked like guilt
seventeen tattoos that etched nothing into memory
He always made himself a career out of taking dives
"Damn thing's broken," I said, "take it out of your mouth, Ms. Po-tato Head."
Where can we go from here
We go to the liquor cabinet to loosen our tongues
Jager, Absinthe, Vodka and Rum
Nothing of substance. Just detail.
Getting undressed didn't look like it was supposed to
Another shot, pause, stare. Repeated as necessary
Eyelashes zippered to make it go quicker.
Feel with your hands, not with your heart
For the heart twists sensation with it's own agendas
The only truth you'll ever know changes as your limbs embrace each other
But stays the same in scent and sound,
Especially after the whiskey sweats out
Then you can leave with your hand to your mouth and your eyes to the ground.
~By BC, AA, JMH, MM, GS, O'R, and NS.
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