I arrive early,
secure a stool,
scope the scene
from higher ground.
My hair and makeup
a ghillie suit, to blend in
with the local fauna.
You order another round,
a dry drink
steadies the hand.
I bat my lashes,
test the winds,
countless calculations
to haul you in.
A sniper of love,
my pulse steadies,
as you brush a hair
clear from the crown,
form free-floating
legs overlapping
locking lugs.
I exhale and squeeze
my trigger of desire,
the tongues trajectory
proves true;
you’re in my sights,
I steal a kiss, then
take my shot on you.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Beautiful verses, K! Enchanting depiction of a smoky noir bar scene ❤
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you, Tom. Cheers to a weekend of sport. 💜
LikeLiked by 2 people
Both poem and song are great!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. 😊 It really is a jungle out there.
LikeLiked by 1 person
ooh la la. well doe K! 💗
LikeLike
A wonderful dance of language, emotion, and human connection, the type with touch and imagination. Lovely verse, K. 💜
LikeLike