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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1023123-Dance-of-the-Marching-Elite
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by MDOWNS Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Drama · #1023123
Remember that I paint movies
Crimson lips feel lush against my sunburnt neck.
My feet glide across gritty recess yard tar.
I feel the pressure build in my ice water veins.
Beyond, my reach I can see an exit.
Empty eyes stare bullet hole envy through my clothing.
Where was my head at?

How could I let my lust overrun me?
And with a single kiss she consumed me.
We talked and laughed for hours.
No one had it like we had ours.
But, that is over now.
Roll the credits dim the lights and clean the aisle.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1023123-Dance-of-the-Marching-Elite