Her today,

it is the song you sing

when the times get rough,

the call you make

when the nights become lonely,

Her today,

laying on satin sheets

in a crumbled down room

and as old as time

wall paper peeling in hard to reach corners,

Her today,

is the image in your mind,

silk black stockings

or American tan, like some

1950s desperate showgirl,

Her today

you have never left her behind,

she just sleeps in that thin space

in your mind and when left alone

she weaves a sad tale out of nothing

Her today,

her today, you tomorrow

as you paint your lips in the same shade,

her today, you tomorrow

as she blows you a kiss and compulsively

and without mercy

breaks your heart as you smile, free now.

 

Ian D. Hall 2018