Hitting jackpot, slut machine.
Good girls, bad girls, life of the party.
Kissing bottle necks.
Swallowing what ethanol suggests.
Raising arms for the DJ.
Swaying hips for fun sachets.
Laugh a little, head back.
Fragile eyes and bouncing racks.
Dance like deer
Lost like sheep
Herd me in your arms
Before the songs die and lose their charm.
Circles, light, come in and out the default dark.
Another face for each flash, another look in a spark.
Pumping fists, letting go, forgetting current news.
Never going home until the sun strikes the curfew.
Vivien Marie Lopez