Monday, January 22, 2018

Dark Liaison

The night is sweat, salacious
Blood crawling through sluggish arteries
A trombone's bleating in the distance
Wafting up from an almost empty club
Slowly dying on the riverbank
A note scrawled in pencil abandoned on fetid carpet
The door softly closing, a sliver of light disappearing
Ice melting in a shot glass on the nightstand.

Two enter, one leaves
A moment remembered five decades or six
And then lost forever
Like all the others

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