The soft crackle

of bourbon over


and the roar of an open fire

an invitation

for confession.

Her red fingernails,

Like daggers, drumming

Her eyes wide and waiting.

Who are you going to give her?

The sharp-suited, hard-hearted

Jazz-lover – zoning out as the riff

Opens up

Like a flower?

Or the ears that

Listen to all of her stories,

Leaving a gaping silence

as the music


Either way, you’re losing


One thought on “Losing

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