Good for Love and New

 
Slapped with filthy fingers
the stinging smudge
of new love
imprinting a face
in fiery fingerprints
the heartless, uncaring
retching back-alleys
of the new year
tremors, regrets
and the memory
of a face, her face.
Drunk and free:
good for love and new
familiar, but very different
a two bagger for sure.

A briny taste
of ice pointed peaks
stolen in shadows
with whispered names
...first names only, dammit
and those not real.
"Jasmine," she smiles.
"Beautiful name," swallow
"beautiful woman."
Tequila burns
lies onto the tongue
and fogs the night
into frozen leather
a car and room, cold hands.

Neon morning, predawn
New Year's new love:
hair matted, flesh caked
silently sleeping, stinking of sex
as the door closes.
A twenty on the dresser:
cab fair eases some guilt.

The sun rises into a film
too dry to spit
before coffee.
The taste: stale tequila
lime, salt and a faint
touch of "Jasmine".
A frown, a cough
and hot, acrid coffee
washes her away.