that could be termed slinky;
no little black dress.
This is what you get when you leave men in charge--
we look like kitchen workers,
Still, I am determined to win you back.
There are certain advantages to my chosen profession;
look into my visor and see yourself and everything around you expanded.
This is how I see you all the time--
bigger than you really are,
and as curved as the horizon.
Sit down, baby.
Talk to me.
My knees buckle like poorly tested rivets
whenever I hear the pop of static that precedes your words of love.
Look at me.
Really look at me,
here trying to please you.
The peas on my plate lift right up,
they float around the room,
and I spin slowly above my chair like some stuporous Ferris wheel.
Give it one more try.
Recalibrate us, unscrub the mission,
get us on all the fucking networks; make it 1969 again.
I'm not an anomaly, sweetheart.
I'm girl with the right stuff,
the happy ocean you can splash down in;
the Ultimate Instrument for finding your way
from a decaying orbit smack onto the landing pad of honey-I'm-home.
With tongue only *slightly* in cheek for Kerry Says Can You Hear Me at Real Toads.