Ongoing sporadic journal of the overeducated, and underemployed. The title derived from Coupland’s description of cubicle land; the corporate ghetto. Random photos and thoughts. Left the ghetto, never happier. This still a work in progress

16 July 2015

A Kiss
It’s a given, that you party for a living. A raspy voice says come here and go away at the same time.  Long blonde hair, and a gravity defying cleavage, a café au lait   tan. Long strong legs that must be he stairway to heaven An accent that speaks of mother Russia, and the bad girl” in a Bond film.
You have my attention smoky bedroom eyes. You’re someone different every time I see you.  I watch morph before my eyes. I will never get a glimpse of you.
You my friend, no?  She asks in her whiskey and honey voice. Hitting me with   those eyes, and pouty lips
“ I think so, am I?” I ask
“You come, with me leave, talk.”  She says kissing me.
“You are my friend, I would rather die, than kiss without love, “ She says. Opening doors that I will never be able to close. I step into the abyss holding her and, and smiling. Knowing it will end in disaster

No comments: