|I was dazzled by the sky more than the date...|
We dined inside an old Italian
place with chipped Spanish tiles and
walls stained from the
dew of some other woman's
'better days.' A place with
leather seats stiff as old rags,
yet our ankles found the warm bone
of one another and I smiled
into his eyes, two spotlights caught
between a reflection of the
brightly-lit window panes and
the old phantom ache of some girl
who'd gambled his last eight years
for the bright lights of a
New York City night.
It was a tearful glassful of wine,
a story he wouldn't allow me to forget.
I stifled the double-edged swallow
of my throaty comebacks with basil,
ate a Gelletto made of Spain
and nervously twisted my fingers
into a fresh fistful of bruise
and bid the bore a Shakespearean salute
before walking my stilettos past
a maze made of concrete and stoplights,
corners where young girls smoked cigars,
flashy as something newly born
as the cold evening oozed it's dead-weight fingers
between the holes yarn left in my knit sweater,
my whole being a chest-full of headache,
wishing I could rewind this day
and waiting for the jingle beat of a message
for which I'd just as easily press 'delete.'
Tired of busy conversation,
meaningless as talk-show drone,
I turned my wayward eyes toward
the window of night and awaited the dazzle
of my old friend Mr. Crater Moon.
October born the sky a bedful of stars
and I had no other choice but to
walk the elbows of my thoughts
across the sharp, silk reverie like
a double-crossed heart on old knees.
written to a prompt shared at dVerse.