I was wearing stale cream lace
that used to be white,
drinking watered-down baileys
with too much ice.
My neck was wrapped in pearls
when I told you;
"Maybe later I'll show you my tattoos"
So you grabbed my wrist
a little too tight,
and let me waste your time.
You swept me to the dance floor
and guided me through
the choreography of our vibes.
You asked me to take my make-up off
and shimmy across your center fold.
So I looked you up
and lay you down
and happily obliged.