Monday, November 29, 2010

Seeya Bitches

Fear is the last companion you have when you leave Gotham. You've always seen her around, but the timing wasn't right.

House sold, bags packed, in a hotel with nothing in your name but a car and a celly. All your friends in this 'burg were situational, so when they heard you were leaving, pretense faded. Your ego was disappointed, but the essential-self never looked back, like "Seeya Bitches and God bless!"

In a bar and later at a theater, I saw her; it was electric eye contact. Seemed like fate so the small talk was bold. We ended up in my hotel room using each other as a divine distraction.

She left her number on the dresser. I woke to the knocking of the cleaning lady - alone. Any dreams I had for myself in this town were left in a condom and flushed.

Driving with the visor down, I live on the horizon... And I left that number on the dresser.

photo: taken w/ iPhone 3Gs Hipstamatic app (Salvador 84, DreamCanvas)