The windows were down
and a wind stirs the fabric
as he sips the dry wine.
On the table lays a photograph
long forgotten and faded.
He leans the seat back
to rest his eyes and remembers
the music played and images flashed
on that hot summer night.
On the table next to the photograph
lays those words in a letter.
What was that song playing when…
after that third drink,
he looked her way and she smiled
so he headed her way and asked,
“Would you like to dance?”
On the floor like a MTV music video
they danced to Prince’s 1999.
Later after a few more drinks
the smell of her neck
the taste of her lips on his
the touch of her face
drives him into her arms,
her warmth surrounds him.
On the table an Alarm Clock sounds,
reality kills the music video star.
