I remember the night we met
at my house with cigarettes
and liquor
the candles burned quickly
under the fan
your eyes
inviting
as a whore on Liberty Ave.
Your anger slept with me that night
fists upon my back
bruised the skin that
treated you like a real lady,
recognizing the difference
rage subsided to my
grasp
just holding you
not wanting to let go
as I noticed the Celtic tattoo
wrapped around your upper arm.
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Caryn