The Girl In The Bar Of Blues – Eduard Dantes

In the search for warmth
Your fire caught my attention

Down by that covetous river of ale
Where animals would regale
In ambitious tales of past triumphs and failure.

It drew me away,
The attraction pulling me in
With the restless eagerness of lava flowing
From the mouth of a sick mountain.

I followed that light
Into your arms
Leading me right to your lips
Rousing me up
Into ecstasy.

The din of that hungry river circling round
Died away in the crackling
Flared up by your exciting embrace.

The hunters slunk away,
As if knowing that the prey had been caught,
That this was not their day.

My attraction grew to admiration
Feeding that ravenous appetite and
Slowly turning into a
Strange kind of dedication;
That devotion which comes
With the idea of total and mutual possession.

Those few moments spent away
Instilled in me
The most fervent of cravings.

Afternoons passed by
Wrapped in fits of fascination and expectation.
And when darkness approached
I knew once again where to find that fire,
To keep from sinking into
That cold and lecherous river of ale.

Then a truth dawned on me
You were only visiting.

The din echoing
From that now warm river
Enchanted me
And inclined my spirit to lechery.

The skies above whispered of a storm
In the days to come
And the hunters grew confident,
For I guess, they had to feed their young.

A fear I could not express
Grew within me,
The rapture was on its way
And above my head
It wanted to stay.

That fire of yours warned you
Of what was to come
But I paid attention
To neither the river, the clouds nor that which made me warm
I simply looked into your eyes
And saw a universe of possibility,
And every freckle on your body
Was its own galaxy
Waiting to be explored.

The excitement flared up into fear
And the agony of it
Almost brought me to tears.
Anger and resentment grew from the seeds sown
On that night I first saw your fire.

From deep inside rose an arrogant ire;
The flowing lava would run free forever.

Then you ran, taking that riverboat south.
I would have jumped in after you
But I could not swim.

The time had come
And your visit was done.

Underneath my feet the earth was quaking and
In all my being the warmth was fading.
The ravenous river was calling my name
But all my mind could tell me, was

‘Kiss her goodbye
And forget the rest.’


his name rhymes with ‘mince’. He’s rarely without a notebook and can usually be found next to the closest bottle of red wine. Previously a writer for The Roehampton Lane Journal.

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