Look for the point of contact
Savor the moment of friction
She has straight cut bangs
And a necklace that has a
Hamsa hand with an eye in
The middle of the palm
She blinks large blue eyes
That are rimmed with
Long, dark, black eyelashes
She leans her long neck
Her dark, dark hair
Swishes at her pale collar bones
She purses her light, light pink
Lips that have touched to many
Lovely red beating hearts
She puts her skinny fingers on
Your hand from across
The dinner table, across the coffee
And the half-smoked cigarettes
You glance at how the light
Reflects off of all those piercings
Up & down her ears
Her lips part & she says very slowly,
Pronouncing each syllable one by one
"Let-s, ge-t ou-t of he-re."
You throw a *** of cash on the table
Not caring if it's the right amount