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14 February 2010 @ 06:45 pm
Blackberry Pie  
Blackberry Pie

Tap, tap on my shoulder
Last call, you say with that greasy smile
Licking your fingers free of bacon and whipped cream
I still imagine how tasteless you really are
Lady, this is my night, my time to just...
Breath
I’ll take the air from this place
The last goddamn place that still serves bitter blackberry pie
My coffees gone cold,
Crumbs from that last piece of pie still float in it
I notice this, but your eyes have gone cocky with impatience
I want to tell you how good your pie is, but that might be harassment on my part
With a nod of my head and good show of cleaning myself up you finally walk away
Your eyes cut back to see if I’m reaching for the tip I don’t think you need
I leave the diner and lights scream
Gold, cerulean , lipstick - I know my basic colors
Only here they crawl up your legs and pull you down
Like that waitress from the diner,
Rushing you when you only wanted some pie.
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Current Mood: aggravatedaggravated