After The Party
5 January, 2005
Author: Vampyr Tears
It started in the bar
and ended in a bed.
She couldn't even be sure if it was
her bed.
He stood near the door
buttoning a wrinkled white shirt
with lipstick smeared on the collar
She starred at the glass of vodka on the tattered oak table,
crystal clear
half empty
with cigarette ashes scattered about
A wave of filth crashed over her
as he walked out the door
Not even one backward glance
The sweet scent of cinnamin and vodka
lingered behind
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| Megan (152.163.100.74) -- Tuesday, January 4 2005, 11:15 pm This is deep, I had to reread it to gain a perspective on it. It's different & I like it. |
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