it�s three
quietly i walk,
plush carpet
soon a
distant fog,
disdained memory
breath is short
uneasy
stomach
taut
heart shatters my
ears
close the door,
silent
cool pavement under
soft white feet,
walk
till the light's brighter,
its tawdry gleam
cloaks and illuminates
the soiled,
cracked street
beneath me,
broken glass
wetness
feet are black
with trash
and people
are ugly
fat
drunk
touching themselves
dancing
i find the spot,
my bare ass under my nightie
on the ground,
sitting in filth
greasy wrappers
bottles and ash
shield my face
from blue lights
red and orange
neon motel signs
i wait
oddly don�t look out of place
hair stringy
oily
he said he would come
its so damn late
gray patches
filter through
weirdos
migrate
only one left...
waiting
gingerly retrace my steps
swiftly maneuver between
manicured lawns
security lights
open the door
again,
silent
hot shower
scour away
going out of my mind
catch myself
breathe, calm
bitter resign
till a knock at the door
rattles my dazed self
he asks
"how�d mud get on the floor?"
�voice breaks�
"what happened last night?!"
