Film Noir
under the moon and murky alleyways
i roam with rats the mean and rain-slicked streets
a private eye, taking whatever pays
i search for her, whose husbands bloody sheets...
paid me to find her and his rich receipts
with-in the fog was smoke like fog in air
from her short cigarette and sinful glare
the light from lamp poles blinked; our bullets blew
a man was dead from our brief love affair
and briefly bullets both inside us grew
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