Bi for the Night
She’s bi when she finds his thighs bent behind
hers, hot with bass—Rhianna, Drake,
some Kanye. Tastes his skin, vanilla breaths
of lotion spilled. She lifts her chest to test
his gaze. He weighs her hips with torque and thrust.
Their bodies dance and crash and grind. The lights
erase to grey—they stutter color out.
The stage all steamed-up skin, he grips her soft
as women would, palm soft and open lipped,
warm fold of arms and kiss of necks. He’s what
she’s had before, a different kind of less.
Her nipples hard as oak, she strokes her thighs,
her hands soft, her lips rose—my throat is open wide
to slide and pose, the throw of body, the wraps
around two silver poles. Palms calloused, fingers shellacked,
she rubs them down her chest, she clutches. Head cocked,
she locks her eyes closed. I find my body by the stage.
She twists and curls, she’s bass and strobe. I pull
my arms to ribs. Perfume of whiskey shots
release. She throws her tits to stage and up. She’s heels,
screwed. She’s hands planted, spread and split.
Her hips come toward me like a drum.
She knows she’s caked with Cover Girl, the blush
of plum, the Juniper plume of shadow,
she knows my smirk. She hums beneath my throat.
ZARAH MOEGGENBERG is a poet living in the upper peninsula of Michigan. She is a Master of Fine Arts Poetry Candidate at Northern Michigan University and Associate Poetry Editor of Passages North. She has been most recently published in ellipsis…literature and art, Diverse Voices Quarterly, and The Fourth River. She has work forthcoming in Ellipsis Lit Mag among others. She was a 2012 Best of the Net nominee. She loves her Pomeranian, snow, and snobby local coffee.