I kept up the drinks in order to please
Whiskey fills with pheromone saturation
Give me that look, that heat of reaction
Release my week of awful frustration.
Her skirt was short, she gave me her panties
I looked in her eyes, her hand on my knees
For in the early morning hours when—
You feel the buzz of the night fade and fly
Look around the unknown room, know that men –
Without women are boys doomed to die.
Crudeness saves time, fumbling for motel keys
“I’m no slut” she says in sudden unease
Unshaven face stares from the looking –
Glass, loneliness in the eyes betray guilt
Reflection of her naked flesh sleeping –
On the bed, you pause, you have yet to wilt…
“Want breakfast?” You speak up in a hoarse wheeze
She gives you that look – who knows what she sees….