Thoughts from a Bar Stool

With butterflies in my stomach, flowers in my hair
Rich color on my lips and perfume on my skin
Remembering what never was
Anticipating what will never be

Rich color on my lips and perfume on my skin
Legs crossed tight, cold hands folded
Anticipating what will never be
Wanting, wasting, waiting...

Legs crossed tight, cold hands folded
My mind's eye squints to recognize you
Wanting, waiting, wasting...
Rich color fading, skin wrinkling under stale perfume

- Deirdre May