deepundergroundpoetry.com
paint you naked
it hasn’t rained in a month, but the late night streets
were slick with the sheen of my watered-down fantasies.
just the right mood for a lecherous affair.
she was a one-trick pick up in the last seedy bar that took
my markers. the scent of loneliness hung on her like drug
store cologne, & she was getting older by the one-night stand;
that made her an easy target for a night crawler like me.
a whiskey sour & a little suggestive dialogue I pilfered from
Mickey Spillane got us out if the bar, & a short cab ride
dropped us at a hotel uptown.
in the room, she lounged seductively on the bed’s chenille
cover, & I thought about how I could paint a Picasso across
the canvas of her naked body, using decadent pastels.
a little scarlet for lips that knew how to talk dirty & a lot of
blue for a broken heart. deep purple for all the nights she’d
spend alone. pearlescent tears that changed abruptly to
black liquid sorrow as they trickled down her cheeks.
sure, she’d be a work of art, decked out in a fancy frame, in
a classy museum. so elegant, she could almost forget she
was a tramp. almost.
when I shut off the light, we fell into each other with a hunger
that’s never satisfied: it only carves away a little more of our
souls. she never asked me my name, & it didn’t matter. every
dream she had was a stranger with rough hands.
after the sex, there would be no platitudes or promises. she’d
be gone in the morning, or I would. nobody wants to face their
sins in the accusing daylight…
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