memorial day

Until the incident
The day
Had been going well,
And uneventful.

The incident being:
I was playing her song
To someone
Not her.

She left,
Not without parting shot

The vodka turning the keys
And letting loose
All birds
Caged
Neath her tounge.

She peeled out,
And I told you
I was a writer,
And that you
Had great legs.

Clumsy words,
Slurred words.
Bleary Eyes.
 Did the trick.

Slugging whiskey.
Trying
To outdo
Each others libraries.

Staring through
The hole in the ceiling.

You asked me to hold you.

 

Reviews

[Emily B]

oh, my

I think I've heard that song before . . .

[Ed Hart]

it ain't love, but it'll do...