she wasn't sexy until she sang
then i was done
i was her puppy, her pillow, and her houseplant
if she asked me
she sang to an audience by singing in, to herself
she left her soul on the stool and i followed her to the bar
not because i'm brave
but because i had to
can i get you a drink
she answered without the confidence she must have left in the host's guitar,
sure... umm, an orange juice?
a surprise answer that would have turned me off 10 minutes ago
but the voice, that voice on the stage
had changed reality
where were once question marks, now were periods
after her drink, she made an excuse to leave
i've been back five tuesdays straight since
and haven't seen her ponytail
until tonight
until now
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