Awww thank you all... 
I really enjoyed writing this one. And Xan, alliteration is the word I think you are thinking of.
Ciao, CL.
Lounge Singer
i wanna be a coffee coloured brown speakeasy angel
waitin for her godfather-goodfella man
batting baked broken lashes
in the two-toned two-bright lights
that are centered on a lapsing lazy susan.
but i’m as white as my torn-top cuticles
white like someone’s idea at frozen marzipan
which has no taste, not like shimmering swirls of tinctured tea.
i want a deniro-pacino man gun casin italian talkin mafioso
a hit and run man, with tattoos he only shows to me
and a grandma’s old cadillac: big trunk for big bodies.
but all i’ve got is a nowhere tom who makes love to the shadows
with metal punctures on his skin and a torn bus pass
sings to me the sounds of the smoke
between the ghost lips and teeth tremors
(wishful thinking)
Awww thank you all...
I really enjoyed writing this one. And Xan, alliteration is the word I think you are thinking of.
Ciao, CL.
Ooh, CL I loved this. 
I liked the lack of punctuation and capitalization because all the words flowed into one another so beautifully, and your line breaks seemed so natural I don't think I questioned a single one. Very smooth, very smoky, very... lounge singer. 
Fantastic.
Wow.... this was awesome. I like how it reminds me of lounge singers. You've captured the feeling very well, I think.
wordy, but nonetheless beautiful. it's annoying how i have to sit here and piece it apart, but it was worth. my favorite lines:
i wanna be a coffee coloured brown speakeasy angel
sings to me the sounds of the smoke
between the ghost lips and teeth tremors
(wishful thinking)
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