After a bottle or two I pull out my wallet
Pull the lips back, a bullet in, and cock it
The air smells of nectarines, gasoline, and a faraway sea
Gold flows free when I open my mouth to speak
You’re like a statue of a gypsy in a British square
The thunder rattles my teeth, shakes orange leaves from your hair
Actors gesture to a crowd of excavated bones
Pause in turn to roll dice of polished stones
And then, a shell explodes in flame
It’s all happening again
And then you take the money like a child
It’s all written out
You put it in a patterned purse
You never had a chance anyway
Up the stairs in the back of the abandoned bar
Down the hall to the room of the publicist and Tsar
A field of flagellants kneels before a rusted truck
You hand me an apple and I bless my good luck
But the juice tastes like raspberries and gin
I ask your name and you say, “Some call me Sin
But I’ve got nipples like Georgia and a voice like France
And if you pick some Flamenco I’ll teach you to dance”
I said, “you teach me to dance, and I’ll teach you to lie”
And then you take the money like a child
It’s all written out
You put it in a patterned purse
You never had a chance anyway
Your hand is small in mine
A child’s smile, it shines
And I write your life, I write your life in lines
Our golden arms, our golden arms entwine
And you shine, you shine

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