My cell, it's windows hover over the warm Brazilian streets. The women dance, Their legs are tawny, Their scarves are broad & sweeping. The men carouse, Their beards are full. Their eyes & liquor gleaming. I press my head, cold, to the bars; my eyes are wrinkled, sleeping. & once a night, an eye meets mine, in sudden, firm embrace. My mouth grows wide, As their body turns To resume the night's adventure. & I look on, the jeweled streets at the bodies in embrace. I don't grow sad, At this orgy's sight, At the nights this gold & free. For once an night, An eye meets mine, & I trust they feel badly for me.
Reason for writing:
Envy - the greatest motive; or perhaps that kills the spirit. It's just something I wrote.
Birth sign: Aquarius
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Payne, David.