it doesnt occur to you
that youre the only one
smelling like hot combs
& blue magic
or that your hair took
longer than everyone elses
when its 10 pm
you & your girlfriends
spill onto the street
heels stabbing puddles
with dollars & phones
& id cards stuffed in your chests
your dress
is the highest & lowest
cut straight down
your cleavage grinning & open
so you smile with both mouths
at a blonde shooting
whiskey with his greek letters
he turns around
& you wonder
which mouth he will like better
under the green light
the club goer looks
at your head
instead of your mouths
youve been sweating
for an hour fetty & biggie
have beat black beats
against your scalp
undoing your latest attempt
to bleach yourself
to blend like silence
like white noise
combs your ear drums
& youre not sure
if hes asked for a taste
or escape
in the lull of a bass riff
you hear him ask
if you want
to introduce him
to your friend
yanking her beige ponytail
into a bun