First Date
Take the whiskey neat,
Look past the barman, there’s the mirror
Practiced, laughing eyes
An easy mouth, now sip, then turn
Sip and nod
Slip your hand from under his
to shift your drink
He leans, breath on your cheek
Gin, hot across sparkling, bared teeth
Now his hand on your hip
You probably heard the rumors
He pulls, you stumble, step back
You probably thought, exaggeration
He’s a success
“Easy, girl,” he says,
his eyes no longer the blue you once thought.
8/11/2017
Copyright © Amy Vale | Year Posted 2017
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