I’m invisible,
vapor,
a motion blur
against laser-sharp winter,
a soft breeze
stinging your cheek numb;
I am a ray of sunlight
in a bright room,
a cell in a fingernail,
shrimp in the ocean,
woman in the universe.
You don’t see me,
or you don’t like what you see,
but this is as sexy as I get;
yeah, I’m working on this,
and this,
and this,
and deep-down in this.
But, when I’m hands-in-the-air
next to the iPod
and a cheap party light,
swaying and bouncing side to side,
feeling that then
and this here in a song,
when I’m begging you
to say something
before I give up on you…
This is as beautiful as I get,
a notebook
capturing my pen,
but it doesn’t make you
want to touch my skin,
doesn’t push you off the couch,
doesn’t get you on your feet
dancing with me.
I spend these hours
alone
in the next room,
right where I can recognize
in your eyes
that you never really saw me.
