TODAY I WANT TO SPIT GIGILO AT HIM

by Lyn Lifshin

today I don’t feel
I got what was
promised. Sure,
the classes but
with so much
more implied:
a night out on
the town, even
under the covers.
Yes, you filled
our frame with
sweetness but
there were dark
wings beating in
your blood, your
face a chameleon.
You promised
the damp heat
of lips, you said
you would want,
always, what I
was writing,
what you craved
you said. Begged
for. Isn’t that
what gigolos
are paid for?


*Lyn's website: http://www.lynlifshin.com/books.htm