Sonya in the moments free
of serving the customers
leaning on the serving bench
dark brown eyes
on you
her dark hair
pinned back
said she liked
Mahler’s 4th best
O so exciting
so full of the life
you preferred
the 5th or 2nd
but she said
no no too deep
too long
life is for living
not dozing
to long symphonies
she preferred Kierkegaard
to your Nietzsche
liked his leap of faith
his books on God
and such
you liked her mouth
small
like rose petals
stuck together
her ears visible
and so lickable
(if ever permitted
to do so)
that Nietzsche
she said
went mad
think it
was the pox
stuck his *****
in some whore's hole
she stopped to serve
a customer
all smiles
and politeness
that butter
wouldn't melt
in her mouth
kind of thing
you carried paint
up from the basement
and shelved it
in colour order
thinking of her
laying in some bed
Mahler's 4th
blaring out
she putting chocolates
one by one
into her small mouth
and licking
her fingers
afterwards
so sexily
one leg
slightly lifted
the other flat
and you imagined her
yakking off
about the Kiergegaard guy
her other hand
not stuffing chocolates
in her mouth
resting over
her ***** hairs
you read Dante?
she asked
having served
the customer
with a smile
and politeness
yes the Purgatory
you said
that is where men belong
she said
unless they take
the leap of faith
she leaned
on the serving bench
eyeing you deeply
what you thinking about?
she asked
how well you serve
the customers
you lied
thinking of her lips
pressing against yours
her tongue meeting yours
in her mouth
of her body
her hair
her eyes
that is why
I am here
to serve
she said
but she was serving you
differently
inside
your young man's head.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
Sonya in the moments free
of serving the customers
leaning on the serving bench
dark brown eyes
on you
her dark hair
pinned back
said she liked
Mahler’s 4th best
O so exciting
so full of the life
you preferred
the 5th or 2nd
but she said
no no too deep
too long
life is for living
not dozing
to long symphonies
she preferred Kierkegaard
to your Nietzsche
liked his leap of faith
his books on God
and such
you liked her mouth
small
like rose petals
stuck together
her ears visible
and so lickable
(if ever permitted
to do so)
that Nietzsche
she said
went mad
think it
was the pox
stuck his *****
in some whore's hole
she stopped to serve
a customer
all smiles
and politeness
that butter
wouldn't melt
in her mouth
kind of thing
you carried paint
up from the basement
and shelved it
in colour order
thinking of her
laying in some bed
Mahler's 4th
blaring out
she putting chocolates
one by one
into her small mouth
and licking
her fingers
afterwards
so sexily
one leg
slightly lifted
the other flat
and you imagined her
yakking off
about the Kiergegaard guy
her other hand
not stuffing chocolates
in her mouth
resting over
her ***** hairs
you read Dante?
she asked
having served
the customer
with a smile
and politeness
yes the Purgatory
you said
that is where men belong
she said
unless they take
the leap of faith
she leaned
on the serving bench
eyeing you deeply
what you thinking about?
she asked
how well you serve
the customers
you lied
thinking of her lips
pressing against yours
her tongue meeting yours
in her mouth
of her body
her hair
her eyes
that is why
I am here
to serve
she said
but she was serving you
differently
inside
your young man's head.
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