NaPoWriMo – Poem #16

It’s 2 a.m.
smoke fills the air
in this sound-proof basement
she sways to her own music
singing, rewriting lyrics,
to an old Five Satins song

In the chill of the night
the motley boys behind her
strum guitars, patter at drums,
and one lonely saxophone blows tenor,
lending a hint of blues to the mood

I caught you and held you tight
an accent tints her voice
altering from thick whiskey on the rocks
to something almost…Transylvanian?
her lips curve the words into a playful smile

‘Cause I needed…just one bite
she curls her fingers, lunging
pretending that she is vampire and I prey
when she invites me, I sing with them
a pre-pubescent voice struggling to match her

Later, I remember how I lived
for these moments, center of her
spotlight sun – smiling, tragic, beautiful, wild
living life with arms outstretched – more sister
than mother, a grown woman
she never stopped playing

NOTE: This is poem is inspired by the Day 16 prompt from NaPoWriMo.net – to write a poem that prominently features the idea of play.