Pink

I hid behind the alcohol, humor
and cynicism
like a Knight hides behind chivalry;
like a priest hides behind a white collar.
But I've seen that look before,
that look of substance abuse
and bad decisions in your eyes.
Your lips tasted like Pall Mall's
and happy hour.
Let me be the worse decision
of the decade.
Let me crack your top ten like
a Galaga score.
Let me make a mess of those faded
pink panties he gave you two
years ago as an anniversary present
before he left for the east coast.
Straddle me in the back seat,
parked in the alley behind the bar.
Pull the back of my hair as I split you apart.
As you think of the rainy days you laid in bed
with him and listened to the Cure.
As you think of the picture you saw
of him with his new girlfriend.
Push your hips against mine as you
try and exorcise your pain through cumming.
Shudder like an epileptic,
like a shaman who is purging you
of past, present and future.
And bite into my neck as you regain your senses.
As the floodgates open and the guilt
and pain come rushing back.
I heard you throw those faded pink panties
away in the dumpster
as we went our separate ways.
We both lit a cigarette and I imagined
you shed a tear.
The click of your heels echoed
through the alley like a fading
heartbeat as you walked away.