the
dark streets of decay
are
not just words i say
but
a lifestyle
woke
to a darkened sky
had
a story in my eye
wrote
until i ran out of ink
couldn’t
think of an ending
anyway
so
i walked to the nearest bar
ordered
a double shot
downed
it to hasten
intoxication
then
slowed down with
one
of their 36 oz mugs of beer
when
it was absent of
its
life saving liquid
i
went out on the patio
for
a smoke
somebody
spoke
i
wasn’t in the mood
until
i understood
it
was a girl
whose
style made you
notice
her brown eyes
and
brunette hair
before
you noticed her breasts
she
invoked a light for her smoke
though
i suspected she had a lighter
our
conversation were trinkets
in
store front windows
enticing
enough that we both
went
back inside
where
i ordered us each
a
36 oz mug
back
on the patio to partake
of
more nicotine
a
sudden santa ana wind
was
making a scene
so
we went into the alley
to
light our smokes
one,
maybe two tokes
and
her tongue was inside my mouth
i’d
barely reciprocated
when
her hands were
unfastening
my jeans
near
a putrid dumpster
i
came clean
deep
inside the draperies
of
her thighs
the
cigarettes didn’t compare
with
the sex we just shared
but
we smoked them anyway
she
kissed my cheek
walked
away
i
finished my cigarette
drained
my flask
walked
the opposite way on
the
dark streets of decay
*
returning
to my ruins
i’m
in rare form
on
the verge of being chloroformed
i
stopped at a bar
the
woman whom had earlier
shattered
me into shards
was
there
we
stared until she motioned me over
with
a jerk of her head
before
her next sip
she
kissed my lips
and
i ordered whatever she was having
we
drank without words
that
weary me so
until
she said,
“smoke?”
they
didn’t have a patio
so
we were in another alley
i
pulled my pack from my pocket
she
knocked it out of my hand
slammed
me against the wall
i
didn’t have to recall
the
taste of her tongue
as
just another memory
but
this time she dropped to her knees
as
she, once again, unfastened my jeans
i
wondered if it was narcissistic
that
she could taste herself still on me
complete
she
retrieved my pack of cigarettes
did
a select
of
one for her, one for me
i
offered my flask
which
i had refilled
in
the time in-between
the
last time it was her and me
before
she could walk away again
i
put my hand behind her head
pulled
her tongue into mine
wondering
if it was narcissistic
that
i could taste myself still on her
she
felt my phone in my pocket
pressing
hard against her
she
fished it out
found
it was on my music app
“what
you been listening to?”
i
put a plug in her ear
the
other in mine
hit
play
yael
naim’s cover of “toxic”
saturated
our
tongues re-engaged
in
a moment so filled with bliss
i
felt the audience should experience
the
film fading to black
*
woke
in her arms
i
could tell it was a hotel
but
i didn’t know which one
but
the phone had a button
for
a direct connect to room service
ordered
coffee then handed the phone to her
where
she ordered the greasiest breakfast
they
could serve
a
tall order for this health obsessed city
the
los angeles sun severed the sections
of
the day
as
if the windows had no curtains
and
i finally learned her name
taking
us to the next level of commitment
like
slipping a ring on a finger
***
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