Tender
Behind the polished brass and red cedar
She lifts the florescent bottles and glasses
At her own classy pace
She’s earned that right by now
I understand well
Her beauty a galaxy
Bundled in dark space of the Miami hotel bar
She’ll not be rushed
To chop blend mix slice our Moscow Mules
Folds her arms
Reads the mantle of faces like unfinished portraits
Propped to her easel of cleavage
Makes me read her mind
I like the game
I think she does too
She’s heard a dirty poet’s lonely old thoughts
A thousand times over
At least lust pays attention
Tips well
Passes the night time game of shells
My eyes sit on elbows
Following her Brazilian-French silhouette
Like wind atop the Eifel Tower
Mardi Gras in Sau Paulo
I’d like her to take my hand
For a long autumn walk
To find Jim Morrison’s grave in Pere Lachaise
Ask her name
Strike it like a match
Steal the bourbon
Left on the Lizard King’s sad defiled headstone
Ask her what she really thinks.
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.
