He pressed a twenty pound note
soaked in whiskey
into my hand

This is for the taxi home

my legs are dead
and bruised

hair ripped out
at the roots

black leather boots
scuffed at the kick

make it look like
an accident

a broken glass
on the floor

a red wine kiss
at midnight

frozen lips that
whisper lustful
moans

and I remember
the first drink
in the park

the innocent brush
of a hand against
a thigh

as I take the money
and run