Grade A Bitch

Love, the great defender of the hopeful faith, long thought departed by the drunkard crowd that had long since floated on from the ill-spirited space

Till she flashed her sly razor smile, each nice shiny tooth a hungry glint did it dare, Love frantically making a run for the bar, the extensive tab to be paid

A round in her honour, humiliating acts the currency she so cruelly demands to keep the ice cool temper appeased, a kiss for the victor before she drives them insanely to death

But even with the bloodstains, suspiciously missing teeth, the energetic remains of a night’s conversation fresh at the doors of A and E

I still can’t help but love her, claws and calculating flaws just a hint of her salacious charm, even if all else around me think she’s a grade-A bitch in sharpened heels and cut throat styling

Love the great defender, a jelly boned wimp and afraid to challenge the bitches poisonous quips, hiding beneath the bar stool next to her, that I call home

After the respite of the alcohol and provocative displays, my lady taunting the rage that restlessly paces behind my calm, I know another night’s conversation will leave us smiling at A and E’s doors, or hells gates!

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