Shame - Brigitte Lewis

Brigitte Lewis (27) is the award winning writer of Rubbing Mirrors. She has
performed her poetry on stages the world over. Loves: sav blanc. Hates:
apathy.

Shame

Shame walks into a bar
takes a seat beside compassion
sheds a tear for disillusionment
and downs a hot fuck for old times sake

she orders a beer and fingers the rim of her glass
as if it were her lovers hips
remembers the flush of her cheeks
and the taste of him
as if it were yesterday
and it was,
but her mind has clung to it today
seeing no distinction between
what is now and what was
because shame you see is timeless

she orders her lover an absolute wet spot
and her shoulders rise from her chest
as she slides and it slips under her skin

desire sidles in
wearing a slinky dress,
heels and self-titled designer perfume
holding her hand is courage
he struts headstrong,
back straight
cradling his masculinity
like a star squeezing light
he strikes up a cigar
and sucks the world in,
holds his balls up to his heart
and whispers
I’ll hold you here
I’ll hold your hair back
as you purge into the night
I’ll thrust with the insight
to know better
than to bed you for just one
uhhh

pity scurries in
holding his cards against the ground
scraping his knuckles
cos he can no longer hear the roar
of his strength
he orders a cup full of loneliness
a gin on the rocks
and sucks the lemon through his skin

they sing in the silence,

we all sing in the silence

this bar is our symbol of hope
a place we stumble in together
to order our favourite feeling
to down a drink for transcendence
to shoot the flaming lips of now
and cheers to another
beautiful agony,
the reckless
beast we love to drink
and spit
and writhe in
this bar called
the long road home