The Ultimate Red Lips
He leaves her standing by the doorcrying, her eyes are red
swollen from his fists of rage
He screams, " I wish you were dead."
Off he stumbles into the night
he falls across the child's rusty bike
catching himself on the hanging branch
he screams, "I'll not be home tonight!"
In his car he dials the familiar number
one he uses in times like these
he knows the woman who'll take him in
one who gives him what he pleases
Her voice he hears and his lust abounds
for he knows that he will get some action
He stumbles to the motel door
crazy with desire and rage for satisfaction
He knocks and she answers the door
wearing her black satin slip
he sees her walking away from him
but notices the ultimate red lips...
kathy lockhart
6/27/06
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
Read 562 times
Written on 2006-07-27 at 03:27
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