"LADY"

By Matt Smythe

She says my body is her sustenance
I am the candle flame tracing her hungry silhouette,
heavy blooded sax and incessant snare drum,
my eyes are closed, her touch is velvet.

Heavy blooded sax and incessant snare drum,
I’m having a hard time breathing her bluenote voice.
She says my body is her sustenance,
I’m swinging from her hips in the dim light.

Night has coughed up streetlights and jazz,
my eyes are closed, her touch is velvet.
Following directions on a matchbook and my palm,
I am the candle flame tracing her hungry silhouette.

Following directions on a matchbook in my palm,
I’m swinging from her hips in a dim light.
Night has coughed up streetlights and jazz.
I’m having a hard time breathing her bluenote voice.

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Matt Smythe from the Finger Lakes region of western New York. An Army veteran and lifelong outdoorsman, Matt suffers from an inability to sit still. If he’s not in the woods, or on the water, he’s scheming ways to get there. His work has appeared in Free Range American, Gray’s Sporting Journal, the Fly Fish Journal, The Drake, Southern Culture on the Fly, Revive, Midcurrent, TROUT Magazine, and a handful of other non-outdoors-related magazines and literary journals. He recently published a book of poetry with Dead Reckoning Collective titled Revision of a Man.

Follow Matt’s blog, Glorious Mayhem here.