I took what I could grab,
Her reputation,
And some of her dignity.
Under the black light,
Conspicuous were the neon rays,
A cloud form,
Digging through my dirt and my old magazines.
Country music beauty queen,
The jewel of her home town,
She was nowhere Texas,
And I,
Pigeonholed so blatantly,
The man with only one face,
And oddity in the moonlight.
The shadows crept in through the window,
Disturbing the peace we had created,
Making our movement troubling,
While we steamed her beauty queen,
And the closed glass of the outside-in.
Pressing in,
The stars,
The sky,
Reflected in our dirty words.
Full moon outside the window,
Not that we could see.
She implied it carried weight.

But no,
I was too sober to be wasted,
And she was too shy not to be,
And in a crazy way,
It worked,
The way I took her virginity,
And said shocking things,
Under the black light our friend had insisted upon.
A tangle of strings proved frightening,
Realizing our own tapestry,
The things we had already done,
Hinting at troubles,
The way she knew what I was writing about,
Without even looking over my shoulder.
I adore my southern belle,
The way she rang,
An though God could hear her.
The creator who seemed so persistently on her mind,
Her faith a conceit that left no room for abstractions beyond love and life,
Although with her even were tangible.
Whenever we talked it made me sad,
Wanting to pull the craziness from her eyes,
The brainwashing from her musculature,
That affected the way she moved with me,
Every liaison an affront against Jesus,
Every kiss stolen from the sanctity of her future marriage,
Stolen from the picture in her room of her boyfriend.
I could see it was killing her,
And me,
In a way,
Though I tried to dismiss the implications.
I loved my southern belle,
In a way,
And she loved the way I moved,
My body,
And my mouth,
And the horrible noises I made.

I'd love it if y'all could help crit this one. I would certainly repay the favor.