The Score
By Beyond Zion
Behind the bar, with a lit cigarette I see him. Beautiful, above the filtered smog He sips a Corona. I wait Wondering if the music will draw him back, or lead him forward. I take a drag, then a stranger says "Hello" But my, bloodshot eyes never leave him The hello turns into a fuck you, And then he moves. Closer. My cigarette gets cashed out, so I light another one. My beer gets warm waiting for him, but the bartender slips me one more. Patience lulls me into a catatonic state, but I'm still watching him. The dance fades into a drag show, and he walks to me. I pull the cigarette and sip the beer as he approaches. We look at eachother, He smiles. I pay for the Corona he ordered and we chat. Small talk, name,age, Blahzae, blazae, Then the applause break the conversation and we focus on the dance floor. But he whispers a sin in my ear, So we leave. And sin, without remorse. Written January 28th, 2002 © on Jan 28 2002 06:38 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Behind the bar,..."