dance

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Prom Queen [Not Autobiographical]

Published August 8, 2015 by April Fox

I never could have been the prom queen,

perfect hair and teeth and nails, smiling sweetly for the cameras

humble under my sash and crown and waiting for the crowd to blink

and offer up the chance to pull the flask out from between my legs

beneath the satin curtain

of my dress.

I was happy under the bleachers,

eyes ringed with black and breath sweet with cheap wine

not quite bold enough to be slutty, yet

not quite small enough to hide.

I felt the words slip off my tongue like I was dreaming

I felt the time crawl from my head and I was lost.

When the music died and the limo crashed and the town went cold and still,

I laid my face against the pavement

and danced till morning came.

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