Mia

The wind holds its breath, it caresses our ship, us dancers dance instead, in bars below this tub, find drunken men who slip, who can’t feign enough, their gloomy ingrate tests, guys whose creative quips, show them past their best, they crawl like bugs, try to reach our lips, don’t care how we tut, we say what the hell, go take a pill, laughter makes them quell, this cruise sails within us, we all know the drill, when to unfurl or cut, keep a steady grip.