Fabric of After Dark Obsession

We all smiled
and chewed the
non committal banter,

trying not to stare.

We all thought
the same thing.

            how the hell
            does she keep that
            strapless pinnacle of flimsy
            from obeying natural law
            and slip?

Theories got tasted
with canapés and cocktails,
of safety pin pierced nipples,
of static charged implants,
of a low pressure vortex
in the valley between.

Maybe old time voodoo,
maybe new day arrowhead
vanity tech, indistinguishable
from magic...
...or maybe this, maybe that,
it's there, and still,
almost not.

            or maybe just duct tape,
            it holds everything else
            in the universe together

But not even Occam’s razor
could slash inflated libidos
into submission.

We all smiled
and ached to keep
our eyes eye level.

It never fell,

and we
never found out.