Her Eyes Glittered Pink , The 1950's

A gazebo worn to the bone by swirling
and avant-garde dance.

Chewed-out pirouettes and poses bleached
the soles of their shoes.

At the ripe age of midnight the party
closed and collected slowly in the
bloodied, beautiful eyes of Miss Marie
as she stood at the forefront of the stage,
microphone in hand.


"Stop." She said, from weakened red
lips.

"Stop the music."

The band squealed to a disorganized halt,
and her ragged breath echoed through the room.

Guests fell to their knees from her sobbing.


"I wanna be loved by you, yes you, and nobody
else but you. I wanna be kissed by you alone."


Her married lover left without another look
through the back.
He wiped his hands on his pressed slacks and carried on.