I wasn’t going to run- The lady held her finger- So close to the hair trigger- And she just said she wanted to unwind- Even if it meant pressing on the nerve- She needed someone- To clothe her- And find shade- Her skin so pale- Her mouth drooped to the floor- But she still gathered herself- Her aura was powerful and indignant- I was starring at her- Her young, intense eyes- Her body withered from age- But age was nature’s costume- And I was consumed- Held like a deer between headlights- Somewhere on her way, the journey from home- A stranger she met- His words slowed her fevered stride- Slowed her to a dwindle, she felt his shadow- And alone on the road she has always known- Had become surreal with her laughter- As his mind fingers had dug into her entrenches- And unearthed her unwillingness- His blue suede shoes- His frisky whiskers- Gambling cavalier attitude- With the red guitar, three chords, and the truth- The moon he howled, she soon did too- The road to each city, through each mountain- To each story, she was seized into his believing- Blue Love Sea, Red Passion Roses, and the tenderness- That tickles you in laughter- He covered her with his thoughts- By sweet tasting her- All over with the slithery snakey tongue- ‘MMMM….yeah” she always said- And now she’s alone- But I saw her silence- Her beauty- As she held the gun- Against the memories- That held love- And the cruelty- She fired- To fill sound in her silence- She fired- To forget the long nights- When she was in his shadow- And howling at the moon-Birth sign: Libra
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