16/365: Drunk Twenty-Four

Dared to tie a cherry stem with her mouth,
I was the kind of girl
who tied a double knot
and dropped it in your drink.
I had a certain showmanship
that didn't require volume.
It's a tight squeeze back here, I'd say,
on my way out of the room
to the tune of a pervert's leer.
On the right kind of night,
that was fine fodder.

I felt I could tame lions
with my breasts pressed into a back,
or a finger wormed inside the bend of an elbow,
crack the whip, so to speak,
say yes, baby, yes.
On the right kind of night,
I could do things,
and it was good,
fast like heart-racing bravery,
in the face of big teeth.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com