NPM Day 11 - Patio Waitresses

Faces unsure of their sternness

Tattoos dragging breasts

Breasts dragging eyes

Everything pouring, leaving lines

Of caged firecracker lust

Shellshocked clippings in a vase,

Of collars and caps
Their gripping waves

Against whimpering thunder

Of distant caves
Form canyons of digital wonder

In a sky mirror maze
Fruit served with a knife

Coats the tongue, but not the strife,

In sugar bumps, inducing haze