TheLioness Poets Page
Shiny Pretty Things
Club after club
he fell in love with the glint of painted faces
and sewn in tracks.
Bodies stacked to slide down steel poles.
44 years old still chasing porno illusions,
confusing an image with reality.
Continually worshipping at the feet of freaks
in clear acrylic heels,
because he didn't know how it would feel to be intimate.
Not just skintimate, but close on a deeper level.
The kind of bond that didn't settle in his pants
like a lap dance on Saturday night.
He was blinded by the light of sequined shimmies
and naked flesh that pressed against his heart.
Attracted by sparks that blazed in his short term memory,
endless fantasy played out between his sheets.
Not a minute of peaceful sleep in his 24 hour wasteland
as he scans the crowd for the next shiny pretty thing.
Written by TheLioness