My disco queen is all purple and glow,
hasn’t put on her skates yet, she’s laced
down. The light’s glitter falls on her.
Her rhinestone girls are skating but she
pulls me with her. Sit, baby. We can slow
now. Her jewels aren’t jealous in the rink
where everything begs to jive, sugar.
We don’t think much, not like humans
‘cuz she’s got some sort of god in her.
Roll and roll but it won’t stop her.
She’s magic, all curls, curve and
lilac tooth. We laugh with no mouth
all body. The lights want to be on her
like everything else, we twist and
jazz ‘til the ball stops spinning.
Kelli Frawley is a poet from Knoxville, Tennessee. She recently graduated with a BA in English Literature and Hispanic Studies. Kelli was the head poetry editor for The Phoenix Literary Magazine at the University of Tennessee for two years and has published poems and articles through the university.