I don't need caffeinated kisses
from you r coffee ca ked lips I watch your hands slide
(slick lace) across mud stains on your hips.
Black lined eyes to pale, slight legs,
(pink slit, soft) a purple bangled magic marker, sparingly draped in wet dresses, soggy, bristled toes on pressure blistered feet.
Something silver slides through your hair,
(lighter and faster) that may be a cab light, or blurs of passersby or the lonely half-moon tonight.
But while we're swapping singles
(a tiny empty gesture) you curb curious glances from uselessly tasting sweet pickled pupils and bitter brown breath .