Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.

It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution's power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.

                                Edna St. Vincent Millay


*i love it when the words of another hit home.

Untitled.

And so I dance

Hoping you’ll notice

the girl behind the makeup,

you don’t have to remember

and I  shouldn’t expect you to

you get what you paid for,

I put food on my table

just another girl

hoping she’s special

so I’ll keep dancing

pretend our eyes didn’t meet

a moment’s recognition,

dismissed as an illusion

as always

The lights will go out

tomorrow there’ll be another girl

perhaps prettier

maybe more skilled

definitely not me

gotta pull a crowd

or you’re out

and so I dance tonight

with everything I’ve got

Unseen,

even as the spotlight shines on me!