Rebel Hearts and Morrison and Ginsberg

"There's a rebel inside us all. You've just put Prada and a tiara on yours to hide it"

Choke down the last bit of freedom.  Swallow the tears forming inside her eyes. Untangle your fingers entwined. 

Shoulders Squared. Back straight. Close your eyes and whisper the mantras of your childhood gone.  "Walk it off." "There's no crying. " Steal Magnolia and Stiff Upper Lip. You aren't feining strength for you now.  Fight the building crowd. Uniformed, pressed and clean. Shove it back but kiss her lips. Make sure you kiss her lips. A frightened pause. Are they trembling or are they cold? Scarred wrists from humanity's cuffs. Resigned to fate. Purge yourself of drink and drug or overdose and die face down inside misfortunes cell.

Blame yourself. Eat the guilt. Shut down the image of her face. Blockade your liver and your brain. Consume the Devil's drink of death. Wander drunk and unaware through the alleyways of time. Do not love do not feel.

Haunting days of backstreet rebellion in "high class" hotels. Fuck the world and all her faults and smile. We have each other she said. And I obliged with a smile.

Turn the Fifth of Jim up on a

Crowded downtown street on a friday night. Pass the pipe with ease as you pass the PD. Theres no fear here. It's reckless nights. Drunk and consumed with lust and love and forgiven pasts. It's doing ten shots on a strangers tab. As they watch us in undiluted lust. And laughing as the cabbie picks us up.

Its lipstick stains on a pressed Ralph Lauren button up and tit shots in board meeting. Two hours late and unapologetic because the rope burns on my wrist recalls your tongue lingering, teasingly, on my clit.

Fuck the world! It's you and me. Unashamed of my neatly tailored skirt and the Cliché Louboutins. Laughing at the contrast. You and your Nike Kicks and my Ala mater hoodie. Cutting lines of coke as you drive. I'm drunk and insecure and you're high and unnerved. You flirt too much you say. I shrugged it off. Until the tears came and I laughed at the innocence of your youth. It's me and you baby girl. And the honesty of my words hit home. So I drunkenly hold the wheel as you quickly do a line. It's off of a hard bound copy of A Tale of Two Cities and I pause to explain Carton's love and how you are the epitome of Lucy and you smile and say maybe you aren't Sydney in this equation. The question holds the room and I consider I'm not the hero here.

Kiss her lips and let her go. She's made her own bed. choices linger like tension in your skull. Strike out and shut her down. "Always"you say and she smiles through the hardened tears. Expression set. Hardened. "You and me. Me and you. " I laugh. Jim and Pam. Pam and Jim. "I'm your Carl Soloman babe." I nod to the growing crowd and the presentation. And I whisper to myself as I walk away Me and you. Jim and Pam. Every Allen needs a Carl. To face the Neon Supermarkets of the world.