Seconds Before the Dance

the second poem in a new series I am working on.

Bowel lips excrete

foul mouths fume

blush flake covered reflections

gossip faucets flow

 

Nakedness revered as price

In here I'm safe

just woman

in tiny

tight

common clothes

wishing to tuck awareness

into tiny

tight

common corners.

 

Exotic hinges fling

Erotic latches click

Vanity swishes

destiny dangling from my tonsils.

seconds away from mockery

 

thoughts bouncing

off walls.

into my pocket.

The pleasure quarters are waiting.

This time it's worth it.

I enter as a starving artist.

I exit as a well fed harlot.