I’d love to watch you dress up.
Red pumps and a matching purse.
You’re a highlife girl.
Lips smeared with the glory of the stage and flashing lights.
Am your muse.
The scent of old fashioned perfume with
Your garters and stockings
Even as they hit the floor
For one admirer, than the next.
Only you could wear that blue dress
In that way.
Turning something simple
Into a gesture so obscene.
My little starlet.
Balancing on the balcony of fame
One day we’ll all be
Longing for thee.