tagErotic PoetryHyperdulia


byThe Mutt©

The spotlight strikes the spinning disco ball
and paints a constellation on her skin.
It gathers stars into this den of sin,
to light the nightly dance of Adam's fall.

The Zippo lighters clink like castanets;
the pounding music changes beats and styles.
The DJ calls the dancers to the aisles,
like calls to prayer from distant minarets.

As salesmen burn their cash like cigarettes,
and tough boys flash tattoos and golden smiles,
the dancers move among them seeking prey.

The women hunt like snakes, with cold regret -
their naked flesh entrances and beguiles.
They hold the broken dreamers in their sway.

Unable to resist their siren call,
unwilling to deny the fire within,
the men buy feigned romance like shots of gin,
and drink sweet lies that burn their throats like gall.

The falling stars and fallen angels pray
for just a fleeting taste of yesterday.

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byThe Mutt© 4 comments/ 5030 views/ 0 favorites

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