Dance for Me

One of only three Clothed women in the Bar, I light a cigarette and watch the paper light to orange, then turn to Ash. The names of girls are announced above the music -- "Mary, Annette and Beth Dancing for you on carousel one, Emily and Faith on carousel two." As each cigarette goes out, I light another.

Just as I did when you told me about the Strippers in Peru, Panama, and San Diego. For eight years you've lied to me, watching other women. Now, I've come alone to see what you've seen -- two drinks down, and still I stare at the bodies. Knowing that YOU are these men who watch Faith wrap herself around a metal pole, her tan ass in a red and white striped thong.

Half a pack smoked, the waitress comes to Empty my ashtray, and Faith follows a man to his table. He sits on his hands so as not to touch her, and I notice the gold he is wearing. "Dance for me," he says, and I begin to tremble. Faith raises her arms, sways her body to the music. The Red and white of her thong become a blur, and I remember The Red of my thong beneath the white of my Wedding Dress.

She spreads her legs over his, leans into his face, her fingers at her nipples. "Dance for me," you said, unbuttoning my dress. I blow a stream of smoke into the air, and watch Myself dance for this Married Man. She turns around and bends, "grab your ankles," He says, and so I do. She moves her hands slowly up the length of her legs, I turn to face You, lift my high heel onto the table, move my hand up my thigh.

You watch, a glazed look between us -- Empty as the Wedding Dress I have discarded.

You taught me to Dance, to be what you wanted,
and I was --
Not knowing then that you didn't need a wife.