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Ilsa and Rick

I’m ready for the let down
of a lifetime,
not mad just misanthropic,
lost identity
in sand dune love stories,
burned down houses
where first touches
led to first rushes
of blood through hot bodies,
floor side romance,
broken window pane
good byes,
salamander eyes
glossed and gazing
at gilded memories
the end of days
naked french girls
in chiffon robes,
can-can heat beat
on the stage of whore houses,
oh the places you will go
they whisper,
rouge lips touching
my own peach pout,
I cannot give myself away
any longer.
feeding the ducks
in central park,
drinking through
till daylight
kisses beer foam
40 bottles,
last sip of loneliness
wasted with cigarette ash company.
I regret nothing of nothing
100 stories high,
would you jump if I jumped,
would we fly or fall?
star maps on knee caps,
inhaling apathy
through cut straw bits,
doing so much to keep numb,
sitting in this meat locker
until my toes fall off,
then the paradoxical undressing
with frost-bitten fingers.
we are evergreen
somewhere underneath,
lasting like tall trees
wide as roads,
in the land of nod,
we have gone on forever.
inked into my silk palette skin
you remain,
no one can take that away.
get on the plane
just as fast as you can,
play it again,
here’s looking at you kid


About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

One response to “Ilsa and Rick

  1. wiredwriter ⋅

    Most definitely one of your best, if not the. Practically every line is memorable.

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