held back by thoughts
she takes her tequila with training wheels
eyes averted - her words stuck deep in the chest
loose with no spine
they keep sliding down her throat
with the beer she sips on.
finally they come up
drunk enough
brave enough
truthful enough
words spat on my face
with enough pretense
to almost seem dignified
it was always a dance of time with no rhythm
Friday, September 25, 2009
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