it was hard to leave the stage behind
it never made us any less or more
that spotlight always seemed to chase us
through the night like rain
to small apartments on unfamiliar streets
or a penthouse with dizzying attitudes
secret knocks on muffled doors
skeleton key to the gates of sin
they bore gifts upon leather couchs
incense , mirrors and drunken offerings
shallow smiles and pouted purrs
upon beds that never slept
that smell of another morning
as you searched for a cigarette
trying to quiet the echoes
before doing it all over again
copyright 2011 Robin Christopher Amaral