Under a dangerous moon, she invites you over for Egyptian licorice tea. What she doesn’t say: Sex will be thorny. Your gooseflesh for ransom. You try to act Gothic Aristocrat, even though your leather is cheap, still smells of the interiors of gone cars. With her frill tie & Cross & Rose knee sox, she makes you feel see-through glass. She is stained. You want to smash through her, a thousand fluttering lights over Tokyo. That would be a truth. Driven to intimate inquiry, your head on her pillow, you notice the asymmetry in her false flash eyes. But you can’t move. You’re marble. A prisoner of bleach-blonde girls who give angel-sex. But the moon is still dangerous. Not for 10, 000 yen will she let you go. By morning, she will have forgotten you. Walking home, down damp streets, past closed garlic & kimchi bars, you listen to the beat of your own wings. You stupid boy. There are only feathers from her pillow. It will turn to snow. You picture her curled in the warmth of her room, just as you left her, your mind her tea cup. Smile. Keep walking. Keep yourself warm.
BIO: Kyle Hemmings is the author of several chapbooks of poems: Avenue C (Scars Publications), Cat People (Scars), Fuzzy Logic (Punkin Press), and
Tokyo Girls in Science Fiction (NAP). His latest ebook is Moon Down Girl from Trestle Press. He blogs at http://upatberggasse19.blogspot.com/