Club doors open at ten pm.
It’s free entry by eleven, I could make it by then.
J’s are prepped, woven on fleek, beige pants are left.
Wrinkle in the right leg crease, dancing should press and release.
Floss the teeth, my smile might twinkle a luscious star.
Style can go but so far.
Shot of patron, heat of tequila calms anxiety before taking the night.
Birth of confidence, death of nervousness.
Flow into a night of sin, Booboo Kitty in the four-inch heels using her overdrawn friends as a shield but I gave them a light grin.
Too much blockage with the homies. There goes babygirl in the Tori Burch flats.
Left at a random with two shots.
He sees her smirk at me while his heart
No lime, hit up the Jose Cuervo back to back. Only veterans think, can’t slack.
Right corner of the bar, her eyes pierce my lips with a slight wink.
My eyebrow rises as the Don Julio sinks. Bottoms up, it’s hunting season but as I approach
she keeps it moving after my dimples
I walk past her as I couldn’t resist and find a hidden jewel flowing through the mist.
My heart skips , her legs cross left over right.
No need to compliment beauty with love at first sight of her….. you know that is.
It’s almost the end of the night, the Bachata starts playing as I grab her hand and hold her body tight.
Chests pressed as our hands hold for dear life motioning from the neighborhood club to a ballroom dancefloor. One step, two steps, and then we spin twice.
The slow song finishes as they turn on the club lights, bouncers lead everyone to the door.
Together, we going to my crib for sure until she whispered in my ears,
“You should’ve given me the chance before.”