a williamsburg evening
a poetry reading
and those words that
did delcare
my dispair, she,
left them for the air
the parisian
the hardness of her
the softness within
rolling warmth
nothing to do,
but fall in
(Really though
she was pretty i mean.. really really truly.
so much so i don't think i've ever
had a girl like her.
those jeans. that hair. even the jumper!
a night where life gets, better
you feel, stronger
to the point that
those lonely nights before
where worth it
like i had to take that road
in order to deserve it)
starts, a joke, a dare
wondering how far one would go
and then laughter died
upon a kiss,
and the smile remained
yet changed
moved from polite laughter boulevard
to satisfied hunger drive for
another, she wrapped
unfolded to her
entrances. passes. hands
on riding chests- some -
screaming mess as hair
swooshed(!) in a sweaty manner, wrangled n' pushed
upon.
upon I
while the lay-laying
on my words of despair
though true, (well it was true once-
every lie has been
(upon I. ) once
upon her. )
shaking greenpoint Y
Manhattan outside
the skyline was
upon I was
upon she
was upon my words
the words
