Words over stupid ****,
about words over more stupid ****.
Showing of teeth like foaming mad curs.
Bumping chests like gorillas being ******.
Standing ground like alley cats.
Threatening to leave one,
daring one to leave.
One staying behind,
one going.
A perfectly hung door angrily slammed.
5,000 miles of tire tread burned into the driveway.
One not knowing where he will sleep tonight,
one wondering if he is really gone this time.
Get some gas, drive around re-acting the night.
Roll down the window to cool down.
Realize there is no where to go.
Park and think, re-acting the night.
Night air detoxifying the insanity of anger.
Start the car, return to the scene of the scene.
Stealthily pull into the abused driveway.
Wait til she goes to bed.
Quietly slink into the blue guest room.
Try to sleep but toss and turn and re-act the night.
Finally shut down the internal conversation at 4am.
Morning,
oh God facing her.
Wait!
She said just as much stupid **** as I did last night.
I'll make waffles, and French press.

There is a tattoo of Arlene on my chest.
Her naked figure covers my heart.
Every curve,
every fold, every shadow,
every subtle flesh toned perfection
that the artist's needle left behind
is my love.
Her colors,
soft ****** pink,
iris blue,
deep brunette hair.
And her lips....her flame red lips.
Her body snakes around mine
like ivy on a tree.
And when I move, she moves.
And when I sweat, she sweats.
And when my muscles flex,
she dances.
Her lips kiss me every day,
her fingers caress me and she is with me always.
Although I know this is just ink on skin,
there is a passion deep within,
it's what I have when she is not with me.

And if you look real hard,
there
on her breast,
is a tattoo of me as well.

Can't share her interest
in this web site called Pinterest.
Collecting of dreams?