The Date

The Date. Sat in a pub talking to a woman of no substance other then she wore a skirt and had boobs. Pub closed, I was allowed to follow her home through dreary streets fine rain and yellow street light. I kissed her dry, bloodless lips We parted. Walking back to the seaman´s hotel she stood by a bombed out church and had damp hair. This it too absurd again I was a place I didn´t want to be. Money changed hand and my loneliness laughed hysterically