Carmen 53

I told her that I had scurvy twice.
She laughed at me and told me not to lie.
She was just a waitress, not even mine,
But she smiled at me and sure that mattered
Some of the time.

I slowly fell into the frost and rime
But the air wasn’t cold so that thought died.
She moved across the floor smooth as her jeans.
Each time her legs moved I did not feel a thing.

Maybe that’s all lies, but how could I tell
While I leered at her thighs as they moved twice?
I thought she was a lie but what is a lie
When the one that feels it is barely alive?

Her legs stretched half the way up to heaven
But I knew I had to show up to work at eleven.