She shudders as I touch her breast.
I think revolted
an old man like me
should take such liberties,
seated in the passenger side of her car
in the middle of the
night
I brace myself for a slap
that never comes,
escaping with the
aftermath
of my second kiss
, standing under the shadow of a building
where as mobster
(Tony Pro)
plotted the murder of Jimmy Hoffa
alone, bathed in the fumes of her exhaust
as her car pulls
away,
then with the taste of her lipstick
still sweet on my tongue
my fingers still tingling
from a forbidden touch,
I make the long trek
home,
the darkness broken
by the parade of
headlights
the dim street lamps hanging
over my head like wraiths,
my brain seized with how far
I over stepped,
with each step, I wonder
how I can possible
step back,
all her tales of
disappointment,
of rape and death of
that girl long ago,
Can I make up for my mistake?
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