A cowboy hat makes you a man...
2002-09-15, 3:15 p.m.
The rain has curled my hair,
dampened my spirits,
and pushed my nipples into obsenity...
I slip into an all-night cafe
and avoid the stares from the hats...
I don't know if the stare because
they don't know me,
or if they know "my type"...
So fucken' sick of being a stereotype.
All I am is what is beneath my clothes...
All I am is
breasts
and lips
and throat...
I take my cue and slip out the door
before they try my patience,
Try to catch her before sleep
steals her from me...
Sleep wouldn't be the first to try....
My grip remains strong from 300 miles away,
and I slump to the tile -
Receiver in hand,
Her voice in my mouth...
Two more days and I'll
taste the rest of her...
But, for tonight, I let sleep take her
and duck past the hats
into the rain.
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