Dancing like Elvis
in a green dress,
blue lipstick moves wildly.
I want to be the freckles on your skin
as you carve the edge of the desk
with the curve of your smile.
I want to see what you see,
to attend the party that never stops
and maybe hasn’t started yet,
feel the dance flow from my heart
to my hips to my knees,
looking great in a green dress.
I want to swim in your thoughts,
to laugh hysterically at one word,
tears flowing from starry eyes
and melting blue lipstick,
to dance like Elvis with no regrets.
For Caitlin, 1998
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