High-heeled Shoes and Quixotic Dance

There was an exit
and boutique the word to use;
no one in the audience
willing to take me home

The rattling pills, they
help me back to the pavement

Back at our house, I decided
to finally clip off those locks
that make you imperfect,

Take off my turtleneck shirt,
hear the pillows talk, whisper and whine,
watch our streetlight moon, the bars,
our parties’ tomorrow