this was never for us

on the heated leather seats I asked you question
which made you hesitate,  do you -- ?

the wind picked up, blew our hair around.
I wanted a bed with candles, silken sheets,
your body was a white plane, looming over mine.

the gold glitter of my nail polish was chipped,
my cherry-glow lips parted weirdly, two red
snakes poised to snap.

the dust of the driveway stung in my eyes,
gritted in my teeth. we smoked a bowl and you
asked me a question
which made me hesitate.

my red eyes, two bright stop lights in the gloom,
had no words for my charred tongue.
the black-red discharge clung to the leather and
rolled off, staining the carpet beneath.

you revved the engine and sped away, away.

in back my thighs ached but I said nothing.
over the surround-sound I heard the last refrain
of an old love ballad and it glued my throat shut.

this was not for me.