She walked into the bar
And sat down next to me.
There was a tattoo on her thigh
That I pretended not to see.
She glossed her lips, lit a cigarette,
Finally ordered a beer.
And without an introduction
She whispered, “let’s get out of here.”
The night was young, the air was crisp,
Her mouth was “kiss me” red.
And when I asked where we should go
She said, “You tell me, instead.”
The sheets ended up on the floor.
The talking ended with a sigh.
She ended up re-glossing those lips.
And I ended up with goodbye.
–L.B. Conrad
lamandabeesleyconrad.com 