You were sitting there, Golden like a goddess, With your eyes wagging lazily Between the clutter and clatter of Four jagged edges that made up One sticky bartop.
The piano bounced in heavy thumps and steps Like six inch heels On a graceless girl Who is dragged through the streets Only by the sweet bait Of a lover's giggle To a hotel room that feels A lot like home.
Your hands and face and eyes Are pink as they pick through the pile, Slotting in and out of Coach and Lucky For a little black dress. The thinning hallway smells like burnt cigarettes And used condoms.
Arms folded like laundry, Hair falling like linen, I can smell the Coco and pushed out ahs Fogging up my sight, dizzying and sultry, As you dive beneath what feels like a thousand white sheets. Sticky, wire-lashes sink Under mountain-high, colored-cotton threads.
Your eyes are the glow of a casino. You look right at me, And I've won the lottery.