Dehydrated

I watched the water
trickle down the hillside
slipping around blades of grass
the way boys slunk past me
their eyes fixed to the svelte curves
of the beauty across the room
as if in their thirst
they couldn’t reach
her fast enough.

I would crane my neck
around the dancers
trying to catch a glimpse
or hear her floating laughter
to learn the subtle
flutter of her lashes
that allows the boys
to drink her in
while she maintained
a strangle hold on them.

I would lose the youthful
moisture of my skin
before I would understand
I, too, had the ability to absorb
the confidence I needed
and hold my own
in a crowded room.

And I didn’t need
a drink to do it.