Petite mort part two
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
She was a portrait of beauty.
Her love was locked away, waiting for the perfect man and the gentle embrace.
She asked me. Was any kindness or good left in me? I told her. Some men need to swim in shit and sin. Can’t feel alive unless buried in warm and new flesh. Being drunk and yearning for new highway and place. Some men do want love, a large house and a woman waiting. I have been in shit so long. I don’t know if I know any kind of peace or salvation? You are too pretty and kind. Men like me, want the Long Island ice tea, whiskey kisses and the slow dance. Just the petite mortal. Just release of the little want and need that is left.
She smiled and laughed. She told me…
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