Strange Bedfellows

The black cotten stretched across her breasts.

The cigarette smoke twisted over the table.

"Socialism is Communism!

My father told me so."

Pink lipstick formed everyline.

"Have you ever read the manifesto?"

"No, but they told me what it says."

Her lashes brushed powdered cheeks.

Designer jeans traced her thighs.

"What about Plato?"

She bloomed a childish smile.

"I loved it as a child. I use to make blue dogs."

He exhaled in frustration.

She slide a cigarette in her mouth oblivious.

He looked into her eyes as

they watched shadows on the wall.