Her eyes were part kind, part sexy. It was the perfect combination. She wore sophisticated glasses and had long chocolate hair. She had a coat that fell to her thighs, pulled in tightly at the waist. She wore amazing black leather boots lifting her a few inches closer to the heavens, and she looked gorgeous, wholly edible. I was experiencing a rarity, suffering a hangover. She could have pulled me from it. She almost did, but I wanted to go with her, dive into her pool and hope she reciprocated. I'd had too much Hungarian palinka and an assortment of other alcoholic drinks. I really did cut loose last night, both to my joy and subsequent dismay.
Going back to the woman on the tram, the one with the glasses, the beautiful one, she had made her impact. She was classy, I thought. Who knows though. I would have surrendered, and taken her with me, got to know her and kissed her like it was the final kiss the world would ever see, love her like nothing could ever be loved. She looked so good, fresh, inviting. Another woman I'd never see again, never kiss, never make laugh, never get to uncover.
Last night. The night owls, the bodies, the pulsating music. Sex in the air, crawling along the walls, dripping from the ceiling, still permitted smoke filling the room, some folk staying caged unable to release the music that pounded through them, knowing not how to kick start the release mechanism, some let it all spill out of their bodies. It oozed right back out of them. Some were making mating calls in their dancing, shapes were busy on the walls, some folk cared only about riding the groove. I cared about it all. Maybe it was too much, but I cared about it all. That was all.
There were women I instantly wanted to lick. Upon first sight. There were people with no awareness of their surroundings, of other people. There were people of all different degrees of drunkenness. Some couldn't even get aroused now. Some wouldn't even know what the person they were taking home actually looked like. The night. In all its madness. In all its glory. Soft, brutal, nowhere to hide. Alive, falling into a haze, stumbling. Grasping for something to hold on to. The faces, fuzzy around your eyes, the faces, the bodies, the lights, the noise, the madness, the drink, the romance, the sex, the violence, the adventure, the night owl blues, at every turn, at every turn. At every turn.
Lie down baby, the room is swimming.
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