the circle two club

when we arrive, baby,
slowly descending that ruby staircase,
looking like
dangerous versions
of Fred and Ginger,
our table will be waiting,
and the maitre d'hotel
will just smile,
and wave us through:
me in my fedora,
and you in your stilettos,
oozing attitude,
and looking for brain food,
amidst the vipers
and black mambas:

and we will take over the joint.

April 16, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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