I didn’t want to marry a man but I wanted to hear one ask.
Gold Mine Saloon, dirtiest bounce in New Orleans,
scene of many crimes. Let me tell you everything
we did wrong. One hand poured water down
my throat, the other revolved me. Not dance
but jealousy. Lust like sugar dust all over
the floor. But I can’t partake.
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Narrative is a hundred percent reader-supported. If you love what you’re reading, please make a one-time or monthly tax-deductible donation. Your gift of $60 or more includes a 1-year Backstage Pass with special features and exclusive previews.
