Lost Love Lust

Funky dancing to “Billie Jean” by Michael Jackson, she sings like nobody is watching.

Sliding dirty socks across the wood floors, she moonwalks her way to the espresso machine.

This is epic. 

Throwing a piece of ham on a hot slice of toast, she rock stars her way to the couch.

Dust arises as she strategically dances taking the coffee cup along for the ride.

If there were spectators, they would laugh to tears.

She could care less feeling that song like it would be the last time she hears it.

The CD proceeds to the next song.

“Beat it.”

Oh yeahhhhh, this is my songggggg dudeeee.

Making a face to seem “bad.”, she walks to the bathroom, coffee in hand, she checks her face in the mirror. Same old same, tragically big nose, slightly tan skin.

Sticking her tongue out at herself she continues along her daily tasks, making the sure the volume is at max.

“Dirty Diana” begins and makes her stop in her tracks and attempt a smile.

No, she won’t dance to this one.

This one is not the one she will dance to, nope.

The refrain kicks in and she cannot help it.

She bursts into singing and dancing, jumping on the bed like a teenie bopper teenager.

Dirtyyyyy Dianaaaaaaa, Noooo, Dirty Dianaaaaaaa.

Mimicking the guitar fiercely she makes an almost perfect turn and falls on her ass.

Laughing profusely she lays down on the floor feeling the music she grew up with.

One of the rare moments that make her think, maybe this lonely life isn’t as bad as it seems.

Breaking into the thriller dance she fades away in her own world.

One where she does as she pleases.

Dishes? Laundry? Pleeeease.

Laughing alone in her room she realizes that a bit of self-entertainment isn’t such a bad thing.

Guitaring away into the backyard, you can realize this was one of the good days.