by Mabel Jane

Created on: February 02, 2009

days that end in Y

Markers melted on the faces
of damned shoe wearers
returning to the heavens.
Lovers in the corner,
blinded by the
ten shot journey,
tasted whiskey
mixed with pot
in a war of
wandering hands
and
protruding tongues.
The toasted,
stumbling for words,
toasted to our youth in slurs
and
swallowed gold.
Sobriety impending,
we couldn't fight the sun.
We were greeted outside
by women dancing
in the breeze.
Waving goodbye, the
silver ladies shed
paper butterflies
waving their long fingers
as we departed
down the yellow brick road
to the stars.

Expensive memories
returned for the ten cent deposit.

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