Kristina

She clutches my yellow dress, a fist inside me caws, hisses like a serpent's nest, there's justice on her mast, , the jukebox roars, crying all around the Gaff, when it comes to resist, she'll shake out a performance, that screams more is less, deep within her howling past, she grows enormous, needs me to crack first, smiles as she does best, her eyes dangerous, waiting to confess, I touch her blue vest, dealing with a lover's trauma, makes me feel blessed, who needs whisky anymore?