this time around

we’re a little bit out of control this time
breathing in the blood from fights exhaled
and onto the streets of whiskey-and-coke vomit

I want to lick the cigarette smoke
on the inside of your mouth
and taste the night that’s not yet over

my eyes flicker over the crumpled clothes
your body hangs with ease
and I’d tear them from your bruised skin
and make love to the shadows of your drunken soul
if it weren’t for our previous public indecency charges

I’m a little bit out of control this time
letting you drag me around by my hair
and trip me up stairs in laughs of vodka

I want to crawl beneath a table
and publicly lick the sweat running down your thighs
as you lovingly connect a stiletto heel with my face on my way out

your eyes stare at my bruises like they’re beautiful
and I laugh at the violence of your hands
knowing that you’re a little bit out of control this time

out of the street lights and into a taxi
we fuck like animals tearing apart its prey
before the pavement hits us, cold and black

we’re just a little bit out of control this time

again

© 2012