Airports…baggage claims…hotel rooms
I bet they all look the same by now
The desolation of small towns tempering the temptation of big cities
Wherever you are, you are not always alone
Some nights you get lucky…and there she is
The thirty-second flavor
The wild ride for the night
The prize for a job well done
She will climb all over you like it’s recess in the schoolyard
Kiss your mouth with a fire that singes the scruff from your face
Scratch her nails down your back when you push deeper, harder, faster…
And you…You will tease her to the precipice over and over again
Through gritted teeth, you will groan her name…if you even know what it is
You will have each other for the night and in the morning exchange thank you’s and goodbyes
Meanwhile, I will take up smoking again
I will order one whiskey after another even though I don’t drink
I will wring ht glass dry for every last drop
Bloodshot eyes and whiskey breath, dragging myself home down familiar streets
To the apartment in the city where you are not
To the unmade bed where you don’t say my name through gnashed teeth
In the bedroom where there is no vindication
Some lucky ***** has you for a few hours
But it’s not me
Bartender, I’ll have another. And another. And another.
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 4:28 PM UTC
Airports…baggage claims…hotel rooms
I bet they all look the same by now
The desolation of small towns tempering the temptation of big cities
Wherever you are, you are not always alone
Some nights you get lucky…and there she is
The thirty-second flavor
The wild ride for the night
The prize for a job well done
She will climb all over you like it’s recess in the schoolyard
Kiss your mouth with a fire that singes the scruff from your face
Scratch her nails down your back when you push deeper, harder, faster…
And you…You will tease her to the precipice over and over again
Through gritted teeth, you will groan her name…if you even know what it is
You will have each other for the night and in the morning exchange thank you’s and goodbyes
Meanwhile, I will take up smoking again
I will order one whiskey after another even though I don’t drink
I will wring ht glass dry for every last drop
Bloodshot eyes and whiskey breath, dragging myself home down familiar streets
To the apartment in the city where you are not
To the unmade bed where you don’t say my name through gnashed teeth
In the bedroom where there is no vindication
Some lucky ***** has you for a few hours
But it’s not me
Bartender, I’ll have another. And another. And another.
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