Kicked to corner
where she said
I’d find company.
I walk outside
where the wind lies
It’s fresh.
The corner girls
spin their stale tales
that I’m next.
I pass the bar
three times then
traipse in.
One whiskey
becomes
five.
Then I see
tattoos too dark to read
yet her smile says enough.
Beckons me to lose
for I gather quickly
her victories are small.
We leave seeking
a temporary respite
letting stars kiss our wounds.
With only the moon
truly golden
over a pawnshop.
Where in the morning
I’ll sell my watch to buy
more time with her.
Rp Verlaine lives and writes in New York City. He has an MFA in creative writing from City College and taught English in New York public schools until he retired. He has several collections of poetry including Damaged by Dames & Drinking (2017), Femme Fatales Movie Starlets & Rockers (2018), and Lies From The Autobiography 1-3 (2018-2020).
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