Tender

Behind the polished brass and red cedar She lifts the florescent bottles and glasses At her own classy pace She’s earned that right by now I understand well Her beauty a galaxy Bundled in dark space of the Miami hotel bar She’ll not be rushed To chop blend mix slice our Moscow Mules Folds her arms Reads the mantle of faces like unfinished portraits Propped to her easel of cleavage Makes me read her mind I like the game I think she does too She’s heard a dirty poet’s lonely old thoughts A thousand times over At least lust pays attention Tips well Passes the night time game of shells My eyes sit on elbows Following her Brazilian-French silhouette Like wind atop the Eifel Tower Mardi Gras in Sau Paulo I’d like her to take my hand For a long autumn walk To find Jim Morrison’s grave in Pere Lachaise Ask her name Strike it like a match Steal the bourbon Left on the Lizard King’s sad defiled headstone Ask her what she really thinks.