Would you like to come with me?
	as I dance my way through pink stereotypes?
	as I try on stiletto heels to make puncture wounds in men's hearts?
	as the seam of silk nylons traces lazily up my thigh?
	as I shake and shimmy and purse and pout
	slide and glide and dazzle and delight
	your sparkling blue eyes from across the room
	behind a velvet rope?
	This cannot  be contained
	not like you can.
	and though you may try
	I'll melt through your heart and fingers like sugar through lemonade
	bullets through flesh
	and say I told you so
	as I walk away
	trailing your pride behind me
	Do you really think I do this for you?
	I couldn't care less that your eyes and thighs have been on my behind
	since the moment I've entered this room.
	sex is not in the eye of the beholder--it is in the eye of the maker
	and what I'm making tonight
	would make a blind man see again
	would make a woman moan for mercy
	would make your mother weep that she had lost her son's soul
	to a woman who could not be woman
	when such magic danced between her thighs.