I was glad when she smiled at me

Posted: August 30, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

winonaagain
I was glad when she smiled at me,
A dark pretty lady on Saturday with a smile that kills evil,
Who writes poems like Sylvia Plath- all twisted and complex,
And knows inscrutable secrets that I can’t begin to imagine.
Dance with me, my dear, through the twilight and the half-light,
Lurk with me in places where they do not know our names,
Let’s be melodramatic and devil-may-care all over the streets of our town.
I want to wake up to your delicate features and your sweet red mouth like honey and give you an avalanche of kisses,
I was glad when you smiled at me.

Published in the Bitchin’ Kitsch

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