soft tear falls…

Decay my thoughts
as you undo my bra
It’s between these clasps we speak

Who sold you to me?
Was it a night sailor?
Was I tricked into something beneath it’s worth?
Or are you not standing up straight?

 I am not… that…

I am half undone and all exhausted!
I am the end of the bottle when the whistle is blown.
Don’t mistake for Madonna
For I am drunk!

I am all fingers and palms
my story is my creases
I don’t forgive what is not done
neither can I read the fortune

When she held my hand
I wanted love
He smiled
and all that I knew was gone

Smile in my palm

and a soft tear falls…