last call’s captivity

begins with your legs and the night
bathed in burning orange
that makes the buckles on your heels twinkle
we wipe sweat from our brows
to make room for more later
you giggle with all the coyness
four cranberry and vodkas bring
you’ve got me trapped
with lust living in the netting your wear well enough
to have given Appolonia a few runs
your eyes flash hellion
and with a kiss on your neck
this captivity of the last call
has just begun.


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