Off to the side and in the Rain

Off to the side and in the rain
She stared silently withdrawn
Frustration and contempt
Welling deep within

The sliding doors open
With a pneumatic hiss
Sounding almost like a sigh
Escaping from tired lips

She didn’t really notice him
As he stepped off the bus
Until he called out, his voice
Ringing out through the

Rhythmic beat of the drops
That slide off the red glass roof
And onto the pavement where
They explode and trickle away

Then he turns and looks
Straight at her with his
Faded eyes, narrow and
Pale and ghostly and cold

Like the howling wind
And she watches his lips
Move and mouth words she
Can barely hear

His clothes are washed out
Hanging loose on his frame
Like his skin on his bones
There’s not much there

But she’s fascinated and
Moves closer without thinking
She spots the glint of silver
Tucked neatly in his flesh

As he turns his head and
She can’t help but smile
She realizes she’s said nothing
Given nothing

Until he starts to walk away
With his hand plunged deep into
His pocket, he pulls out a box
And opens the cap

His fingers lift the flame
To the cigarette in his mouth
And he breathes out the smoke
Roiling about his face

And she wonders briefly
What it’d be like to touch
His face with her fingertips
How it would feel

With his head between her hands
And his lips on her skin
But the moment quickly passes
And she shakes the thought away

Letting it drain out of her mind
Willing it to leak from her skull
Washing away everything else
Off to the side and in the rain

so, HELLO
why is it that when im reading this, i have a really, really, really hot guy pictured? since he's smoking, and i hate smoking, but you somehow manage to make smoking sexy...

i like it. (the poem itself; and not just for the lovely visual that comes with it )
there was rhythm with the sylables; it wasnt like what i've heard be eloquently described as 'word barf' (essentially, the words are just kinda there, and theres no rhyme or reason -rhyme being the one more commenly deemed important- to them). and how it starts and finishes with the same sentence (is that it would be called? sentence, line, phrase, that thing) is cool too; not exactly a sence of closure, but it ties back into the begining.

and, just for kicks: i challenge you to write a poem thats not humour, per say, but not dark and moody (but moody in a good way; your stuff is deep-moody, not emo-moody). u up for it?

I CAN MAKE ANYTHING SEXY.

LOL, I thought I replied to this?

Haha, the lovely visual comes from your overactive imagination... dear Lindsay, not my amateur attempt at stringing words together in a mildly coherent manner.

=]

I'm still working on your challenge, haha, haven't had enough courage yet.