The Whiskey-Bitch

She slipped into the room like a

naked secret

searching for the comfortable camouflage

of a lie...

But slowly

, the whispers

, the bre/

             ak of conver
sa  tions

and slowly

, the unified melody of gossip

Each eye threw a dart, Each

mouth spit glass shards

at her feet, Each

smirk feigned a smile

i'm glad i don't know her

like that,

like they do

that rude whiskey-bitch is

a good friend

of mine.