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Risque' Night
by Melanie McConnell |
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I was caught with my burning hands on your stick shift. The headlights flashed, we moved with a blur, your head banged the windshield. I hid mine, streaked cherry lipstick on your thigh, squeezed your Weegee. My old man was in the bushes, he saw our shadows rocking the car. We were buck-naked. Screams, yes, they were mine. It was us, hanging on the open black car door, stomping gravel. The photos showed us creeping together in the painted light. I said it wasn't true, I never got nasty with the dude on the vinyl back-seat. I never steadied myself with a grip on your large flashlight. Flicked on the map light with my head as the car moved back and forth accordingly. But the old man knows my past, you better drive fast 'cause I don't apologize for internal quivers. I am in it for the exposure. |
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