a prom dress made of duct tape

adhesive to skin.
tape the silhouette on secure.
people need elaborate futures 
when they're seventeen years old. 
a silver binding. 
cross-hatch.
a mermaid dress. down to the floor.
soon, a disco ball will swell 
the size of a skull.
the shimmer will drench 
a gymanisum in dust. we took pictures
arm in arm. every night needs a good theme.
the red carpet rolled out of my mouth.
we danced in the moon light
as long as the dirt would have us.
what i really mean
is i wanted a dress 
that wouldn't come off. 
there are so many ways to fix yourself
to a single person. everyon'e corsage
planted in a garden where 
we are all dwindling animals.
i wanted to fill his mouth with flowers.
i wanted to be 
a man who loves men.
instead i was a girl craving
to be shut in one garment.
a flock of heels trace the night 
towards summer heat. a song plays
for a second time in a refracted palm.
god dips the sun in blue paint.
there are table clothes 
to cover this. there are center pieces
we could balance on our heads
for the rest of our lives. 
i didn't want any help. i wanted 
to take another silver roll around & around my waist
until i was un-openable. skin red around
all the edges. the night folding 
towards a paper ending. everything 
& i mean everything 
is disposable. even skin.
even memory. especially men. 
no, i mean boys. especially
a cusp. a clasp dangled me there.
i wanted a duct tape dress
so badly. instead a zipper crawled reptilian
up my spine. my bones were accessories.
his suite had tails.