Loitering afar from the grunge
cheap, tacky dance floor.
She smouldered a cigarette like royalty outdoors.
Her heel stamped it out
as she snuck between clinging walls of smoke,
into a room filled with awful stenches
of beer, sweat and piss.
She ordered a drink in no time.
I believe it was gin.
The music was in full swing,
I was tapping away to the beat
so I couldn’t hear her properly.
I kept observing this woman
gliding around the room featherlike.
Her vibe was somewhat similar to a princess,
that has put down her tiara,
for the night.
She carried herself with elegance and pride,
intrigued into what I would find
behind that masquerade.
I took a few shots of encouragement
and turned to see,
her hair cascading.
Blond with hints of green
descending right in front of me.
Her lips leapt with a joyous smile.
My heart lost in a trance
between her and the drums,
I instantly reached for her hand to dance.
Her innocent style was timeless,
shy eyes reflected colours
I never knew existed.
Our bodies did the talking,
until lights signalled the music to cease.
And that the bar was closed.
We lost each other in the crowd grabbing our coats
and headed in separate directions,
for the late journey home.
KING OF CLOWNS POETRY 