|
I'll Wait A Little Longer
by Christian Neve |
|
|
It's six already and I cannot find you on this skanky strip You promised but of course the slickness of your promise was ever a wet glide with little substance. The morning moves with grey scaled lizard slow progress blood thick without the heat of the sun I'm smoking your cigarettes betting you have forgotten me beneath the frenzy of a salesman's pale buttocks his I-love-you's striking your cheek in a mist of spittle Too many grey Wednesday mornings between us. A tongue's flicker draws the day on |
|
«
back to table of contents
|
