Skip James Moved Her Soul; He Smiled

The gadget lit up and displayed

that message that described her night's fate. 

A gentleman, one she was fond of, was

waiting.

His company uplifted her - empty mind and senseless soul.

But he was aching �" oh, that heart of his.

His ridged tears punctured her sight, 

only with eyes closed did she imagine such. 

She'd marry this man if present circumstances

panned out ten years future of this very moment.

Glazed and bloodshot, red eyes guided

her down the interstate to that old 

hole-in-the-wall joint. 

Skip James' "Hard Time Killin' Floor Blues"

nodded her heavy head and tapped her toes

against the accelerator.

The parking lot was empty at 2AM,

aside from his dull, dark red almost violet, vehicle. 

She smirked slightly and maneuvered 

her way to the glass fronted building. 

 

He was watching. 

He never made it obvious; but, he knew she

was moving in his direction. 

He glanced over the brim of his coffee mug

and grinned as she pulled the door swiftly.

He knew better than to let her know he had

been aware of her presence since before

she had entered. 

She sat down, abruptly yet gracefully. 

He was surprised of her altered state of mind,

although he expected nothing more. 

He invited her because of her company and

her vulgar, harsh, language was more than satisfying;

exactly what he needed to catch the train back

to reality's residence. 

 

Being aware of her cold ears, he was 

certain her heart would listen. 

After all, it was him. 

She was intrigued again �" after nearly 

forgetting of him for almost three years now.

Until his most recent visit home. 

He was set on bigger and better ideas

and he was out to pursue them

leaving her behind. 

Her thoughts then drifted to his

selfishness which in return, made 

her cringe. 

In silence, as if they were both studying

each other �" taking eveything new in, 

her eyes darted to his and they were

glistening. 

His eyes, deeply green, pulled at her.

His eyes accented his long, full, dark eyelashes

which met with long, dark, 

tussled hair.

 

He never thought she was anything short of

beautiful, even with her disrespectful reputation.

The hair that hung from her head sat just below

her breasts.

Her breasts seemed a bit larger than the remembered; 

although, they still weren't big. 

She never caught his glance to her chest...

Or IF she did, she refused to let him know and he 

knew she wouldn't care. 

He preferred smaller tits, auburn hair, and pale skin; 

and she wore it all well. 

 

Breaking down, he began the inevitable small talk

that had always happened no matter your company.

The "how have you been?"s were exchanged, dully; 

neither were where they wanted to be. 

He spilled everything that virally 

ruined him. 

He explained his previous relationship 

that had a duration of 'far too long'.

He had then told her of his imperfections, 

hoping to shatter her questionably existent heart.

Laughing inside, he would never

break her; in fact, she'd kill him. 

Too independent, too strong, too stubborn.

And he was wearing thin. 

 

She spoke with a silver

tongue - always receiving more from people

than what she had put on the table. 

She was intelligent and very seldom 

manipulated by ignorance. 

A pistol and not anything less, she'd 

chew at a person until they became

nothing, simply withering away. 

She'd then dance with a red lipstick 

stained smile. 

 

He'd never know; but, she'd give it all away

to go back several years. 

To their prime. 

He caught up with her about his family,

a topic she loved hearing about; memories

never faded. 

Quickly she was saddened as she heard

of their falling out and pain. 

One only left with a few months of life. 

 

She didn't speak much, he never

doubted her attentiveness. 

Never would she think of drowning him

out with something more interesting. 

There was nothing more interesting than his voice. 

She knew he knew and that's why he

continued for roughly three hours, 

filling her with information.

He made her cry, he made her laugh. 

 

Excusing herself, she ventured to the 

ladies' room. 

Before he let her leave, he grabbed

her face, brought it to his; kissed her with

the breath of a stale cigarette. 

 

When she returned, written on a wrinkled

napkin, "I'll never forget you, love," was 

scribbled and he was not to be found. 

 

Eternity kept those words crumbled in her pocket...

Tears lead her to the empty lot; bourbon through her veins.

Author's Note

There may be a few grammar issues, narration was meant to express nothing but emotions