Tainted Mistress
Tainted mistress, dressed by midnight, lipstick; last night's drink.
Bedroom eyes have seen more bathrooms and hair, no persuasion; linked.
The heels keep stabbing in the granite, trying to bury their last pale dance.
Straps between each stepped on toe, want to wallow, but there's no chance.
Skin, sweated and parched from lost, warns your breast are way too soft.
The teeth still cling; invisible, still holding to scare their mark.
And you keep walking with the night, yet your eyes are saying lark.
Tainted mistress, dressed by midnight, lipstick; last night's drink.
How many times must you go out, before your mind has hit the brink...
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
