It’s a full house, it’s a fridge of beer
And only friends and weekend in sight
It’s the pouty girl in the bright red jeans
On whom your hands have landed all night
And I’ve no idea to intrigue you
It’s the not yet; it’s the wait for it
It’s the observance of a rule
And you kill ’em with charm when she’s on your arm
To remind us that you’re cool
Dare I join the queue to approve you
‘Cause you’re hot
No one holds a candle to you
You’re on fire
You don’t even know what you can do
It’s the elephant, it’s the subtle scent
It’s one too many left undone
It’s the thing you can always afford to lose
When it belongs to someone fun
And I’ve no idea to amuse you
It’s the appetite that I learn to hide
When I am served an empty plate
But the pangs and ticks speak a deeper wish
Of what am I, a woman, made
Though I’d have my way to conceal you
‘Cause you’re hot
No one holds a candle to you
You’re on fire
You don’t even know what you can do
Another night, another strand of light
I’m not worried, I don’t need you to see in my face
That I’ve been learning
That you’re turning into more
You’re turning into more to me
I’m too tall
Drink in hand, shoulders against the wall
Not as awkward as I seem
Just a cloak to bear the scene
And you’re near, and you’re conversation’s occupied
But you’re finding ways to crowd my side
When did you tune into me?
I’ve a second life, I’ve a steady hunch
A wall with lines in sets of five
But it’s hard to say they won’t all give way
‘Tween when I leave and you arrive
And I’ve no idea…
To retain you
‘Cause you’re hot
No one’s got a handle on you
Call the shot
You don’t even know you can do
It’s a lot
No one holds a candle to you
You don’t even know what you can do
Copyright © 2015 Rachel Zylstra
From The Tacit Turn, 2015