Up
on stage swaying girlie hips while others scream in delight. You say
you will, you say you might. Glitter trash, rock and roll
whore. Who the hell do you take me for?
After concerts though you seem to fade, like a candle left out in the autumn's wind, you flicker then die.
'Come….babe, sit next to me.' You'd say in sultry, drunken tones as you patted the seat next to you and looked out of the window into the midnight sky. A bottle of Evian in your grasp, faded track marks on your too pale arm.
I'd smile and take my place by your side, I'd rest my head on your shoulder and for a moment everything would be all right.
'Why is it you sparkle on stage?'
'Because the music gives me wings.'
I'd cuddle up to you, whining softly until you kissed the top of my head and murmured that you loved me. Silently I wondered why it was that you couldn't bare your wings when the spotlights were taken off of you. Sometimes as I walked down the dimly lit hallway I'd think I was seeing fallen angel wings.
'Love me…' you softly uttered as your fingers worked the buttons of your shirt and you arched your head back letting me slide my tongue over you naked chest. Your moans and gentle cries were a melody of their own. A song saved only for me.
You tasted of stardust and heroin. You were as smooth as marble, yet as warm as the sun.
Sliding to my knees I'd make a million promises then take your hardness into my mouth, working you over with my lips…my tongue until tears ran down your cheeks.
I swallowed you up, every last drop, dizzy with you. You were my drug…my perfect drug, my angel-whore.
Then at night, holding you tight, as we lay in your four-poster King sized bed, I'd watch you breathing as you slept. I would feel every twitch you made.
Then sometimes just before the sun threatened to burn the sky I'd see a look of calmness smooth over your face, and the shadows danced around you while phantoms played on the wall imitating angels.