Saturday, March 31, 2012

Bow Street Romance

Between pretty women
and dirty thoughts, black
is a dark shade of white.
I forgot how to write
like me. I sleep
when the day finally breaks
me down. No sounds;
a defenseless communication.
I know promises broken like mirrors
and I know the way of the wallow.
But a bit of whiskey
on the tongue changes views,
a bit more changes thoughts
and too much changes you.
Between pretty women
and dirty thoughts
my woman tonight undresses
the desperation
from the bottom of my bottle.

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