A Girl’s Night Out

The city hums,

deep, pulsing rhythm,

entrancing,

beckoning through the concrete.

She drapes her shoulders

in Haute Couture

and puts her hair up,

like a prize fighter.

One last look out the window

and every streetlight,

headlight,

taillight,

seem to beat in time

with her heart.

 

Child of the city.

Offspring of the tall, metal gods.

An elevator ride,

a cab ride

and then inside.

The line outside is not for her kind.

She’s injected,

mainline,

into the vein.

The flashing lights,

the club’s name

doesn’t matter,

it’ll be gone the next day

and no one will care.

Tonight is for the flair,

the red and white

neon lights,

the strobe

the bar,

and the dance floor.

 

She is slick with sweat,

her body hungry,

devouring the throb of the bass,

the beat of the drum.

Her large, dark eyes

drink in the colors.

Her ears soak in the sound

and she feels it,

deep in her bones.

 

Mingle and drinks.

Quick social functions

to please the functionaries,

with their little side-parties.

The upstairs party.

The downstairs party.

The bathroom party;

where the only lines crossed tonight

are drawn on the porcelain.

 

She ignores the politics,

content to move her body

blissfully on the dance floor.

 Creature of light and darkness,

substance and shadow.

A panther stalking

the break beats

and the crescendos.

 

Denying every clumsy advance,

she steals out into the night,

leaving with the friends she came with.

Partners in crime,

a tribe

of high-rise dwellers.

Children of the steam pipes

and pavement.

 Under a light polluted halo,

black winter night calls

back to high aerie.

 

Home,

an apartment with a view,

a shower

and a comfortable shirt.

She lingers at the window

and even in these small hours,

she can still feel

the city’s pulse

match her own.

 

HG – 2019

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