Bill Alton

Poetry


Peace

The living room is dark and warm. The music is soft, bluesy music the color of cigar smoke. They dance with their hips.

Her tits come out. Her head is on his bald spot. All night, I watch their secrets. Their secrets fill me up.

Published by Bill, on August 2nd, 2009 at 6:47 pm. Filled under: UncategorizedNo Comments

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