She was dancing like something that twists (Michael)
when it burns. Iron, titanium.
She turned colors. She oxidized a pole
when she wrapped herself around it.
I was three shots in and just getting started.
The bouncer was heading for her
but I stopped him, said she was my neighbor
and I’d get her home safe.
We went behind the club and played
with matches, lit some steel wool a cook
had thrown out with the garbage, melted the mouth
of a juice jug until we smelled almonds,
hallucinated a dry lake bed
studded with burning horses.
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