bistro love song {w/blue angel}

there was a love song playing. at the bottom of a stairwell.
behind the door of the Cellar Bistro. so I pursued it.
I am the most unafraid man on earth.

My debonair escort gingerly rakes his gaze over my disheveled charm.
standing stark and lonely against the rain sheened street, he peaks my
curiosity. I accept his, let’s get better acquainted, gesture.

to offer love to a stranger for fleshly favors is a felony.
it is to be a criminal of the water; to be a pirate.
but, God forgive me, I am a pirate.

This bistro, like the fire in his eyes, lends a certain warmth against a night
full of loose thoughts and tangled ends. with a couple of winks on words, I
casually lean over and light my cigarette from the candle on our table.
carefully taking in his hard lines as a woman should.

she wore candor like cheap perfume, yet the fragrance & the Celtic
islands of her eyes stimulated my appetite for sex & danger.
and what is more dangerous than a beautiful woman?

I start swallowing his artsy seduction as a thief pillaging for rare jewels,
all the while swooning inside. and the more he chisels around those,
'I want to hold you,' insinuations, the more his silver swag heats my need
for further fondling from a real man, as he.

the love song, the candlelight, the gloss of her lips & the sparkle in her
eyes were the destiny I’d been running toward my whole life. my past &
hers, our sins & secrets & regrets, none of it mattered. only the
tomorrows we could carve out of forever…
I blew out the candle & kissed her.