a little like Gypsy Rose Lee
Hard music, soft covers, bitter sweet
words that are just said to be there,
sharing the not-enough-for-me blanket
and just how did this night start out?
Music turned up high, like us, and it
was maybe Yeah Yeah Yeahs,
making our yeah-yeah-yeahs as I dance
to the music (even though I can't)
but it doesn't matter in this watercolor
or maybe it is called an abstract.
One button down, seven to go
as I smile my crooked smile, one side
more than the other and you laugh,
bitter sweet or is it just bitter?
Unzip, slow-down, those tight jeans
that I know you can't get enough of
and I ain't no Gypsy Rose Lee,
dancing my striptease on broadway.
Now the mundane becomes wild
like us, pulled together with those
soft not-enough-for-me sheets
not even touching us with the music
lost in the background but
the whatever-we-took tonight
is finally wearing off and you fall
asleep just as the music stops
and everything surreal on my wall
seems to be seeping into my room
and I am still awake, wide awake,