kimpossible
11-12-2002, 08:47 PM
Seattle by night is cold with anonymity.
I wait at the corner of a rainy street
as god's wrath falls in a million futile
lightening bolts which illuminate
the pavement.
I dispense quickly a pack of Gaullois
idly rosarching shapes from a billowing smoke...
My ride arrives at midnight,
the rumble of her '69 Chevy
wakes the shadows, she comes with a shudder.
She is painted white and black, my venusian
poison, and I kiss her devil's eye,
taste her warm, scarlet blood--followed quickly
with a sip of some un-named liquor from
the chrome flask dangling from her wrist.
The engine groans.
The body shudders.
We accelerate,
throwing slick behind us.
All we can see is glistening obsidian scales
and the slick sucking sound of sticky tires.
She finds a dark alley, park and I
make her a woman with my hands.
The engine groans.
The body shudders,
we swing into reverse,
then forward into the city shadows.
Swinging into the unnamed streets,
there is no talk, only telepathic symbiosis.
There is incense burning in the car;
we inhale and exhale, then parallel park.
The engine whines, then dies.
The body quivers, then rests.
And with a turn of handles, our doors open and click in unison.
Bass rumbles a brick building; mortar
falls from its corner.
She takes me to the Edge,
and we dance to bass and nothing else.
I wait at the corner of a rainy street
as god's wrath falls in a million futile
lightening bolts which illuminate
the pavement.
I dispense quickly a pack of Gaullois
idly rosarching shapes from a billowing smoke...
My ride arrives at midnight,
the rumble of her '69 Chevy
wakes the shadows, she comes with a shudder.
She is painted white and black, my venusian
poison, and I kiss her devil's eye,
taste her warm, scarlet blood--followed quickly
with a sip of some un-named liquor from
the chrome flask dangling from her wrist.
The engine groans.
The body shudders.
We accelerate,
throwing slick behind us.
All we can see is glistening obsidian scales
and the slick sucking sound of sticky tires.
She finds a dark alley, park and I
make her a woman with my hands.
The engine groans.
The body shudders,
we swing into reverse,
then forward into the city shadows.
Swinging into the unnamed streets,
there is no talk, only telepathic symbiosis.
There is incense burning in the car;
we inhale and exhale, then parallel park.
The engine whines, then dies.
The body quivers, then rests.
And with a turn of handles, our doors open and click in unison.
Bass rumbles a brick building; mortar
falls from its corner.
She takes me to the Edge,
and we dance to bass and nothing else.