the wannabe

She woke with a start
Too tired, after the
night’s escapades…
With herself and her imaginations
Running wild both
One egging the other on…
She wore lipstick too
Not like the other nights
When it’s just pretend-play
This was the real deal
And boy, it felt good.
Madonna came…
And Elvis was there too
‘She looks pretty’, he’d said.
She sang and won hearts again
And again
And again
And then was too tired
To carry on
Body revolting against mind
She fell on the sofa, asleep,
Smudging lipstick and mascara
And dreaming on…
And on…