MUSINGS OF A ONE NIGHT STAND

Can cold hands
groping hot flesh
melt the ice?
Can alcohol soaked breath
fuel an eternal flame?
The musings
– the girl who
gives it away
when she's desperate
to hold on.
Can't break the cycle,
not when it works;
temporarily.

Daydreams
and fantasies
– stable knights on white horses,
warm glances from drunken eyes.
She still has those,
holds to those.
Sensory depravation
until the morning's light.

Would someone stay
once they've already gone?
Who claims
a conquered territory?
Practice
tells her the answer,
but sweet naïveté
lets her imagine:
Seen past the push up bra
and bunched up panties.
They will want
the kiss swollen mouth
to remember their name.

Childish rationalisations:
saying no brings contempt,
a yes breeds affection.
She doubts;
the sad pathetic show
of slow dances and sharp hips.
No glory to gain,
just grin and bear it.

Does a leopard
change its spots?
Does the sinner
become the saint?
Simple questions,
of love and faith.
Things to deny,
and things to seek out.
The truth always hides
between the sheets,
or in dim lit corners.
But she avoids the light,
and their harsh judgement.

01/05/08