Photo taken by moi.
Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.
This is our story.
Dinner and drinks were over
Perhaps I had one too many
Okay three or four too many
Allie led me out the restaurant
In her high heels and tiny skirt
She hailed a cab
I found comfort against a lamppost
The cab screeched to a halt
Allie pushed me inside
Bumped my head as I entered
Once seated the cab sped off
City Lights flashed like a kaleidoscope from hell
I leaned my head back
Relishing the peaceful night with no antics
Her hands caressed my thigh
I loved these rare moments
She tugged at my pants
“baby, you doing what” I asked
She freed willy
I uttered more drunken words
“you no can do that inside cab here”
It was a suggestion
Not a dare
She did it anyway
I watched the back of her pretty head
My mouth opened to speak
SIGH
cabbie adjusted his rearview mirror
oh, hell the what
my head fell back in ecstasy
I felt heaven
As I raced through hell
I love you Girl Devil
Until next week
The Lonely Author 