She asked me to coffee or a coke,
But to be honest, I didn't like her ever-present sound just as yet.
Clickity click, she walked upon the ground,
In shoes grown from hippo hide.
And flawless skin - thicker than cast iron.
It rained a bit, and her expensive heels did squeak.
Her perfect hair frizzed a bit,
A deep delicious brown, the Nile, as though in flood.
Her laugh rattled, and fully soaked upon me.
Her brown eyes, the deepest of wells, Widened with flowing delight...
It entered me, that terrible, awful sound.
She asked me to coffee or coke.
But to be honest, I didn't like her sound too much as yet.
Dripping, water, squishiness against the pavement as she did speak and squeak.
She asked me to coffee or to coke.
Coffee, I said.
I needed the company, and she was good to the look,
As her expensive perfume wafted over a bloke.
And the rain did coldly do me in with a soak.
And as I ordered a coffee, she ordered a coke.
And me- her augmenting laugh did mercilessly soak.
And all of this, did loneliness, stoke.
She asked me out for coffee or coke.
The sky had darkened, as afternoon turned to night.
But all I got was a dreaded laugh and a soak.
She looked at me with perfect eyes,
And in them, I did soak.
As I drank my coffee, and she drank her coke.
In her wretched laughter, I did soak.
And I wonder if she'd laugh with me again,
If I asked her to coffee or a coke.
As in ironclad darkness, my emptiness attempts to soak.
And I think of her wretched laugh. I smile. I hope.
Perhaps she'd meet me yet again... for coffee and a coke.
And yet, the night breeze, I sensed, it became a hurricane in the morning, my dream, in it as though truth itself, is to know that night breeze, as though in romance- to romance the mystery of the hidden truth. For I love the night breeze, which so few yet can sense.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
She asked me to coffee or a coke... But all I got was a dreaded laugh and a soak.
Posted by Marc Evan Aupiais at 9:39 PM
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