Two of My Favorite Eyes

“You need someone to help you stick the needle in…”

Hand of Doom

Black Sabbath

      I nod as she touches the sleeve of my pink, striped 10th Avenue work shirt.  I get drinks and after the drag show Nikki dances smoking watching herself in the mirror watching me while I watch her not taking many drink orders and my boss yells at me after my shift and Nikki hangs out with the drag queens drinking their free drinks and I count out and Nikki and I go to Chris’ Impala that, as usual, I have borrowed and we start to kiss in his car after taking a few tokes off a joint couple of bumps of coke and I have my hands on her breasts and she holds my hands tighter against her and I am rubbing her breasts through the T-shirt.

          . . . She’d sat on a stool in a dark corner of the bar, wearing a Skinny Puppy T-shirt, leather jacket, black hair pulled back with white bandanna, Siouxsie Sioux makeup accented darkness of her eyes. Her white skin innocence tempted me even though it’s probably an illusion or too elusive.  Her breasts stretched out blackness of shirt distorting design.  She smoked a cigarette through an aqua filter- lip’s red contrasts her complexion–one of hours spent indoors sleeping while the sun ravaged the planet, her eyes sink into mine- mine, hers.  I carried my tray defensively hoping no one runs into me sending my thoughts flying- just allow me to walk aimlessly through the crowd not asking customers if they need more to consume or picking up empty bottles and glasses- just me thinking and wondering why she sees me.

     I look- not looking, walking one more time around the club, return to her eyes, smile. She smiles, nods, I nod, she waves me over.  Drinking eyes drink me.

     Being drunk, I can already see the finale.  

     __Can I ask you a personal question?

     __Yes.

     __Are you straight?

     __Yes.

     She smiled and I fell down standing drinking and drowning.

     __Like your leather.  Seems it’s been with you for awhile.

     __Thanks, I have had it a long time.__She smiles inhaling on her dying cigarette.

 Her name is Nikki.

     End of night she says- I’ll be here tomorrow.- I’ll be here tomorrow as well- I say.  She’s bi, no visible signs of disease.  Can’t wait until tomorrow…

     She wears no bra we are still in the parking lot of 10th avenue and we are soon entangled in the back seat and she is straddling me as we kiss and her eyes pull me below the calm to the tempest and i smell beer and pot and tobacco and this is what i think man was intended to be doing all the time (how do i tell Dr. Carter that this is the only philosophy i believe in?) and we are soon lost and i don’t know where we are or why this is happening aside from choosing its occurrence and i swear to God that Nikki drenched me in splendor and bitter-white-lied-spider-webbing as we came together…

~ by epiphanypoint on May 10, 2009.