10/27/11

Same Place

I skin-dreamed the rest of that night,
bed – body at the touching of raw eyelids
waking up thirsty, staggering
downstairs for water water so sweet and never cold enough
for my hot little mouth:

no words,
just moaning and spit.

It wasn’t the gin that got me drunk.

I forget so quickly, but
you were bumping your leg against mine, 
don't act so coy”
turn me into shamelessness;
I fucking love this game.

You're touching me publicly and I'm not
your leg pressing mine but I can't
you grab me close to dance it's making me
hot, everyone knowing
we leave together.

I ask where
you'll take me 
but it's always the same place: 
the dark.


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About jake.forrest

Poet. Songwriter. Etc. View all posts by jake.forrest

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