Harlot

Surrounded,
Guns pointed,
High Noon,
Silence.
Click, Click, Click.
Six shooters and shot guns,
Aimed at the accused.

The standoff has begun
The tumble weeds of indiscretion roll
The gain is none,
But the burning thought is blinding

Off in the distance, shining in the sun
Out of reach
Blistering brilliance in an uptown suit
Smiling in her direction.
Intoxicating and roaring,
The passion, the illusion,
Blocks out the barrels and lead.

Whispers of promise
Rise from her scarlett petticoat
The swish swish swish of her bustle,
Tells lies.

Sweet soothing lies,
From a harlot's lips.

Ride, cowboy ride
Confident in your leave.
With the promise she will be
Waiting on the eve

Of your return.

Gun her down
For in this town
A mother would frown
On a tarnished wedding gown

And the deafening sound
Of her silent screams
Will ring in your ears

On the eve of your return.
© J. Stark


Not meant to be as morbid as it sounds....it just came out of me this evening. It's been a while since any words were flowing this freely. There may be more....