Oh she’ll pull you in, all teeth
and blood red lips, the way she moves
as if she owned the joint,
and anyone who steps foot inside.
Until the lights come on she will
be here clinking glasses filled
with cheap champagne and grinding
on any available hip she can find,
and she’ll wink and tell them all
how she is going to be a star.
She’ll tell them all how she is
not just another drunk fortysomething
who hasn’t felt the love of her husband
since she whored herself out
to strangers, and anyone who would
double tap her sorry story
and leave their heart behind.
She’ll tell them all, before the lights
come up and the bartender laughs,
and everyone else watches the doorman
fold her into a cab he has already
waved away from the back door.
© Nicole Lyons 2018