17 or The Black Letters

Number 17 from The Knockouts

“So, you want to hear a love story?”
Turn it back on
Dreams of something so slick and wet it would make your mouth water
Lips drip
Tips slip and slide
Glide through garters
See through panty lines
Fine and dining
“I don’t dance”
Romancing
To make that humble mumble in the valley of shouts and screams
Them Georgia boys couldn’t have said it any better
Dreams of p***y
P***y
P***y
P***y
And a little marijuana
“You don’t smoke?”
Brazilian girls and boys can think about it and we cant?
It is the accent
Ants get one that can do it to keep the colony alive
First impressions
One chance to make her scream
“My pleasure”
The fire burning like the heat of a thousand
A million suns just for that
Those curves that swerve
Lips
Hips
Fingertips probing
Molding
Like clay the malleable flesh
Something beautiful in
Building the ideal
Feeling what is real
Stealing just to steal
“Well that is thrill theft, baby”
And maybe
Just maybe
She might suck out a little bit of your soul the next time you kiss and exhale it like cigarette smoke
Fill her lungs with your essence as you burn inside out
Breath you in deep like the oxygen mask falling from the ceiling with the pilot over the loud speaker singing ‘I’m so sorry’ as you get off in the lavatory with the leggy strawberry blonde flight attendant
Cumming during catastrophe
Blasphemy
But this isn’t the church
It might hurt a little
Actually it’ll hurt like hell if done right
With a tight lipped ‘That’s right’
And a hard ‘Oh yeah’
Like Pringles, once you pop, you can’t stop
Oh don’t stop now, we’re just getting to the good part
Don’t stop until I cum
I mean birds do it
Bees do it
Even froggies in the trees do it
Lets do it
Lets fall in lust

II

The phase in between
The days in between
First sight and forethought
After the Sundays of the week
They make your knees weak
Stuck to your clothes and hair
She is
Everywhere
Tuesdays you won’t speak
In the back of your mind you will think about the creep
Of hand on thigh
Yourself in eye
Sigh
Pick up the telephone and give a little call
But baby, what is your phone number
Moan
At the dial tone
Ten digits
Fingers dial and die
Lying limp in your hands
Hold your breath for that
‘Mmm, hello?”
Slow
Like honey comes out rich and smooth
Oozing into your ears
You could kill for that
‘Hi’

III

We find
That this has all happened before
And
It is times like this
That
We scream out
Call out for a sweet release
From the monotony
That constantly
The consistency
Like tar
That pulls you down
Holds you under
Squeezes out the last breath
You are now vacating this existence in 5
4
3
2
1
To
Something new
True
Like a Monday with the lights turned off
Somewhere far off
An island in the south pacific
The sun warms your face as you wake
Kissing your chest and cooing the soft lullabies in your ear
You rise and smile
Walk out onto a beach
Black sand between your toes
And a sunrise unlike any you have ever seen
Warm hues explode on a blue sky
You sip from hand blown glasses and sigh
Not sighs of regret for some
Great unknown
Far off home
Answers over the telephone
Where you would wait 6 rings
7 rings
8 rings
The number you are trying to reach is not available, please leave a message after the beep
Like a gut wrenching
Face contorting
Tear filled orgasm
Panting and sweating
Licking your palms
Screams for more
And you deliver
You eat the flesh of mangos ripened in the sun for fingertips
Sun dancing on the beads of sweat on her chest
Each one diamonds
Casting rays in all directions
Letting the juice drip from your lips down your chin into the sand
You kiss velvet lips
Slick like the pulp of the mango fruit
Sweet like sugar cane
This moment
Time slows to a stop
Freezing
The kiss
And that sunrise

IV

She is a sobering experience
Toffee touches from a sugar plum fairy
Sweet
But isn’t it scary
Something that has you shaking in your boots
Who thought four letters would work so much chaos
L
O
V
E
Disarms
And it may harm you
When she looks in your direction across the breakfast table
The way your soul goes in the sunlight
Just right
Call her Goldie Locks
Take off your shoes and socks and rub feet
But the cold comes callously clouding your calm black coffee
The creeps make you cream

V

Got to get off
Got to get out of this feel
Ing
X’s just don’t do it anymore
And o’s
Oh no
The embrace is surely lacking
The dying days
No gaze to gauze and bandage
Manage a few words at meals but it is not there
Firing for effect is meaningless
Meaning this
Love
Like grapes growing on the vine
They take hold
Plump
And drop
It makes your heart stop
But of course it is not
The end

VI

Hero in
A sting that
Hooked in and grabbed on for dear life
The tinge that
Filled you numb
Leaving you reeling
On a cold tile floor
Asking for more
Lest
You know
A little pinch
You give an inch and both feet are in
Pushing you on the bed
Taking off your shirt
And holding you down
Equipped with hips that talk
Those lips wouldn’t dare speak
The viciousness of vulnerability
Make you bleed
Pull your hair
Bite your collarbone
Leave you listless
Wanton wanting
Loving
And all
For
You

VII

Hi
And with that reply
Bye
Out of your life
Down the street
And past the point of no return
Just passing
Bye
Ships in the night
Distant
Phantoms on an unknown sea
You were just heading in the same direction
An intersection
Car crash collision
Metal on metal
Skin on skin
The same sin
Where you stop and begin
F**k the edge
You jumped in
Feet first
Because what could be worse?
What a broken heart does
Or wishing it was?