damaged

i’m a real sucker
for the damaged
women.

they have so much
to give and
hardly want
anything
in return -
just love,
endless streams of
hot love
on a tuesday
afternoon
just before work.

it’s only after they leave that
it hurts me, having me bent
backwards on my bed
sprawled dead
looking at a fucking ceiling fan
spin its fucking tail around for hours
a day, even
through the fucking
night.

“you really need to get yourself a good settling woman, seth,”
John tells me.

“i can’t afford a good woman.”

“a good woman won’t care if you have money or not,” he
tells me.

“no, i mean,
i cannot afford her with the love
i have. a good woman deserves to be
loved and cared and
sheltered and
be given something comfortable. i can’t
give them that.”

we both take a drink on
my expense and
i pay the bartender and
i look across the bar
and see this lovely 6ft
goddess of all leg
ass
and hair
and say,
“now, see, that there woman
doesn’t need love. she needs a man.”

we both laugh
and leave.