Under Sound


Last night, I wore a short dress and too much hairspray.


I danced the music until it wore thin

and my feet were bruised,

covered in dirt.


I didn't sweat

or speak, but screamed instead,

hoping somehow to get back in your head.


As usual, I went deep

underground, into sewers filled with liquor,

and people filled with sound.


So my hips shook, hands twisted, feet moved,

eyes closed, mouth waiting;

and when the music was about to


snap, I collapsed and stayed standing.


Last night, I was neither here nor

there, but neither were