Jealous of the night….
Johnnie drinking the lime, cranberry juice and vodka. Kind bartender allowed him needed silence and she ensured his drink was top-off. He loved Monday night at the Stray Cat inn. Old jazz being played and pretty memories appeared at the midnight hour.
Lovely ladies sat near the jazz band. Moving hips and shoulders slow and easy with the wonderful rhythm of the song. Kind bartender shared smile and she changed empty glass with a new fresh one.
At the midnight hour. Pretty Lizzie appeared. The poet wrote into a journal.
“Want too little, want too much.
Kisses so damn sweet,
skin so damn hot,
the kind night hold your heart dear Liz,
please take me, break me dear love.
I am jealous of the night,
dark night keep your heart content.”
Lizzie wore her tight black dress, allowed me to see, strong and pretty legs, a smile of sweetness and the wonder and perfection of her hazel eyes. Her eyes surveyed the bar and she saw me.
Pretty Lizzie came and she sat with me. She kissed my face and lips. She asked me, where you been dear poet? No-one interesting to communicate with, when you are not here. She took my journal and read the read in silence.
After she read the words. She kissed my forehead and she whispered, “we, who love the song, the drink. We need our purgatory of safe places like the Stray Cat inn. To find comrades in arms who love the jazz and vodka more than love. Better for us to gather, even if we only for us, take and steal.”
I told her. You are looking wonderful and sweet dear Lizzie. I am jealous of the midnight hour, the midnight hour is the only things, you love now. Thank you my beautiful friend for stopping by and saying hello.
She took my hands, she took me to the dance floor. The simmering jazz played and the midnight hour was alive and well. Pretty woman and the poet danced closely, to the soft and sweet jazz.
Coyote