Stripping

"Stripping"
(c) 2009 BearWoman21

Last night I got to live a fantasy
from a time when I was twenty and three,
or so. From so long ago. Anyways,
my fantasy was that upon a stage
(or on a bar if needs be--
after all, it was just a fantasy)
I would, while watched, strip and sway
to the beat of some pounding music.2

Well, my bra was too tight,
couldn't undo it myself;
got to show off my jugs anyway.
Could not go all bare, the law here declares
that panties be worn at all times.3

Just an audition live, got only one song.
Happily, the audience went along
and appeared to enjoy my desire to please.4

All 330 pounds, dancing around,
not nearly as lithe as the regulars.
But my spirit I shared, and seems nobody cared
that an elephant danced on their stage.5

For my three and a half minutes of fame
I've paid all today with the pain,
bed ridden for all of the day.
Professional now, they want me to bow
again as a "true" dancer next week.6

Seven minutes (two songs) per set in earnest!
I'd love to do this, I must confess,
and I will try my best,
though one set may be all I have in me.7

The oxygen debt from one song without rest
took a toll that I'd rather not pay.
In my twilight of life, I'll try once more the price
before time takes away what I've left.8

My body, not sound, in fact wheelchair bound
can still give me a few fleeting pleasures.
How odd it all seemed when compared with the dreams
of the young girls who dance, needing money.9

For me it was spirit and soul,
yes, and sexuality, too.
Another chance to live freely.
The tips merely offers of gratitude.10

For them, it's a job
to strip for the mob
the income for them a necessity.
What a difference there was in our attitudes.11

2009 August 08

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