Alison

Alone in the back of a bus
sits a tragically wasted train-wreck.
Her name is Alison.

Seduction and Sin have tattooed themselves
underneath her skin,
and the only thing she can do is scratch
and scratch again,
until she finds what it is she came here for.

The sunlight through the windowpane
stains her pale face blue
and she looks like a daydreaming zombie.
She reminds me of a broken promise
and a woman I left behind me
the day I ran away from there.

But I can tell from her stare
that she's found me.
Suddenly sounding like a pounding drum
is the thumping blood-pumper
inside of me.

She frightens me with the way she whispers-
like she's just heard the worst news
and wants to be the first to tell you.

The booze on her breath is beautiful.