Lucidly, he whispers nothings as sweet as the coke you mix with rum
Glancing at her lips, chapped, his thoughts float forward to when the evening’s done
To later, when she’ll likely cater to his every wish
Providing he doesn’t spoil this delicate dish with
See, his logic holds large holes like the pores of his nose,
But she sits silently unseeing, blinded by his apparent freedom
and aching for anything, anyone, to bring a change.