"she's a real woman." that's what
the bartender used to say. she makes a habit of
pulling herself up by her bootstraps.
she won't accept your coat but she'll
take it from you and then light a cigarette
to keep herself warm. you're lucky.
you're not one of the casualties.
not one of the ones she shot down without breaking
a sweat. she makes a habit of that too.
and you've seen her when she sweats.
like i told you before. you're lucky.
but it's not always that clear.
sometimes she finds the blood under
your fingernails and then she gets angry.
she never walks out though. she shows you.
she cuts you up and throws your pistol on the bed.
but you don't have time for this so just
call her babydoll and lock the door behind her.
1 comment:
i like this.
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