East Cleveland

With every unprepared pot hole, her skirt was lifted further
Just enough for your winter lips to swallow her whole

I am writing this at red lights
A pause between lines
For me to drop the cement ball of my tired right foot
On the worn plastic which controls this night

Another octave higher, her lungs have filled with a graceful sort of lust
I do not feel my hands on this steering wheel
The open windows have invited the draft of her below zero moans

The silver Chrysler mini-van in front of me  has a dragging tail pipe
While the 6 foot 2 seventeen year old high school drop out is pushed against the fence
His pockets stuffed with the dirty hands of strangers younger than him
Another kick in the groin for their failed findings

The two of you never noticed
Your hands cupping the pockets of air which lie between you and her
A syrup laced liquid, so sweet to your taste

There are ripped 'for sale' signs
One after another
The boarded doors of the Baptist church on the left are whispering the sermon last preached

I am smoking now, at 9:25 PM
There are  fumes coming  from the empty bus on my right
They are now hiding between the  strands of my broken hair

You haven't stopped kissing her
A sequel to last nights events for the two of you
Its been 107 minutes
I will bring you both home now
In the empty city of cold noses and warm hearts