poem08 Feb 2016 09:08 am
My fingertips danced alongside the bass,
thudd, thudd, thudding through the speakers.
The bodies gyrated in flash frame,
like an old, wrinkled movie.
“You having fun?” she asked me,
flame red bangs tickling my nose,
blood red nails clutching my arm,
ruby red lips caressing my ear.
I shrugged, and allowed my fingertips
to dance their way up her arm.
She smiled at their performance,
applauding with slate grey eyes.
Her fingers joined mine, twisting
and turning in a couple’s’ duet.
They intertwined in finale and
she pulled me away from the crowd.
“This will be better,” she whispered,
pulling me down hallways and stairs
to a room in the back of the club,
with no music for my fingers to dance.
She pushed me down on a couch,
splotched and stained with secret affairs;
flame red nails clutching my face,
followed by blood red lips.
My fingers resumed their dancing,
up her thighs to the clasp of her dress,
but their performance became frantic
with the pain of her kiss.
Her ruby red hair trapped me
between burning tendrils of steel.
Her bloodied nails tearing rivets
in the soft flesh of my cheeks.
Those succulent lips glued to mine,
sucking out everything inside.
She released me, storm grey eyes smiling,
as my fingers did one final twirl, then laid still.

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