let me lead

let me lead.

on the kitchen floor in your socks and shirt. my hair falling down as the sun follows suit, a stray ray seeping in through the tiny window.

because no one can match the steps of your feet like me, the clumsy footsteps i've come to recognize as you walk across the creaky floorboards when i'm sleeping.

so go to work, as you must. drink lots of black coffee and stay up past midnight finishing it. carry the stress on the broad shoulders you tuck into your blue collar. callous your hands with pipes and wrenches.

but when you come home and it's late in the day and this little old house is sighing and singing with winter, just find me. in the laundry room out back. and bring me into this room, right here. with linoleum tiles and wood paneled walls.

you bring home the bacon and i'll fry it up. you start the music on the old record player and i'll start swirling before you return. a ballerina in my bathrobe. pretty eyed, pirate smile, yours for the taking.