Bleecker BarA Poem by Vanessa
It's a night in February
and words become arbitary.
Instead a kiss
our lips meet momentary.
Suddenly the air, the brickwall
is less ordinary.
of things to come,
my soul escapes itself,
Later and later yet. . . .
The brickwall still holds the sillouette
of our spirit lips momentarly met.
One street over
is Sir Marquis Lafayette
and like him,
with each day pass you soon forget:
me, the girl, you shared stories and a cigarette.
It was temporary. . . .
However, the writer in me
is romantic and literary.
She'd let myself
your gestures as primary.
she tires of this game of solitary.
So a game of roulette. . .
In my mind, you,
I continue to resserrect,
a moment or two momentarly met.
Should I go
open my mouth and speak a minuet?
With each day pass I shouldn't forget
"A night out is anight out.
A drunken kiss is a drunken kiss."
© 2011 Vanessa
Added on September 4, 2011
Last Updated on September 4, 2011
AboutI am October and a poet. I'm tagged and bound . . . silent and secret but never a mouse. I can be forgiving and understanding yet misunderstood. I am becoming each day. I am Victorian, a nerd, .. more..