I can be

I can be

I can be crystal
Wash over day-glo
Fingertips all of me and airbrushed nails
With the cigarette dangling – just so;
My Harley will have to go
For the harlotry of bedridden lips
Applied with the kind that just stays.

I can walk on tiptoe
Highly strung on stilettos
I can balance the book till the end of the room
Give my pinky a life of its own;
My hair’s gonna have to grow
For the bareness of legs newly waxed
Slip-sliding silk can betray.

I can be swish
Butterfly on the hover
I can push it up straight to the sky
Listen for a swing in my hips
I will have to take leave of my senses
For the welcome of sticky-lashed lids
But it seems such a small price to pay.