"It's such a confused language, your American English
None of you have control over it, yet you flaunt it around
pretentious and full of itself.
my native language is so beautiful"
that seductive accent slipping out of her
"But yet you choose to speak it" I retort
she laughs and it is at once beautiful and sinister
"But you my writer, you have command over your tongue
you know how to manipulate it"
She could have any man she wants. I've seen it
they fall over themselves in bars and on the street
she plays with them like a cat does it's kill
she flashes me that she is wearing no underwear under her skirt
and when she see's my skin flush
she laughs again.
"You are so good at at being aloof..I'll have you yet, sooner or later
I'll have you. I always get my way. I'll make you forget.'
If only she was right.
I sometimes think it's only the fact that I won't let her win
that she wants me.
"Your heart will heal and you'll forget her and then I will pounce."
again with that laughter
pushing her hair behind her ear she gets up and walks across the room
placing her lips on my cheek she leaves a lipstick stain
her breasts brushing my arm
she whispers something in my ear that I don't understand
something in her language
"Goodnight little poet"
and then she is gone
will I ever let someone in
will I ever feel the same
my best days seem beyond me
and love seems like a lost dream
she had said earlier that Americans are never content
we just keep searching for the next thing
except me
stuck on you
knowing that anything else is settling
I chuckle to myself
and head out to walk the night streets
looking for the next distraction
until the universe brings you back to me
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