lyrical lounge: take 2

the return of smoke and mirrors, we
bring in the libations, curl into a booth
and swoon toward each other to hear our words

behold the fluttering of my stomach
before the night begins, for once not due
to the presence of you alone

the measure of performance
not one like I have known
quite like this, a roll of the dice
into something nice and a chance to give
a song for bliss or recital
but never knowing the right way to finagle

butts out of seats and onto the dance floor
a perplexion I aim to take
another shot
at tonight.


Talk at me while I eat

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