If those chipped peeling walls could tell
Their blue frightening and closing in
(I seem to have a thing for bathroom scenes
The close intimacy, the raunchiness, the locks or lack
Thereof.) She held the door closed as I went down
She tasted of Victoria’s, Bohemians, and trembling ecstasy.
If those baby blue cracked walls could tell
How much I loved her, how much I breathed for her.
To part her lips with my tongue, her hands through
The tiny coils of my hair reminds me of yellow
Sparkling over a deep sea. I’m floating and she’s my wings.
I could’ve had more but the party’s over and 2am skies
Bathe the night air. I’m close to anger when she cries for him.
Across the street I sit and listen to the saddest guitar
While she sobs drunken and absorbed. Yo respiro.
–Luecretia, the esoteric
Inspiration: Daily Prompt: But No Cigar
Esoteric Poetica 