my fantasy women

Look down at those lips of yours
covered in my saliva.
Slobbery kisses, Strobe lighting.
Consequences of when we drink
three bottles for a fiver.

In my palm, a small emo girls,
gentle fingertip touch.
Your straight dyed black hair.
Those beautiful eyes framed in
thick eyeliner, used too much.

Fantasy women are Emos.
Those thick frames glasses.
Studded belts, slung over your pert asses.
the poor mans gothic girl.
But what stood out,
was your pout.

Stumbled our way out of the exit
a bright nailedvarnished hand.
The fizzy street orange glow.
Leading back to yours for dirty sex,
I lied and said I was in a band.

You and friends youthful slang
I have no idea what it means.
Cant start a conversation so.
I laugh awkwardly in places
as we queue for chips and beans.

Fantasy women are Emos.
Those thick frames glasses.
Studded belts, slung over your pert asses.
the poor mans gothic girl.
But what stood out,
was your pout.