A Night Out

You ask, is it want

that brought me here to a sweaty basement?

Do I want for company, dance,

music, lights, drink? 

You ask, do I need

to be blotted out for a night?

Sweat off working-week masks, shed

skins on the dance floor – be outrage,

be outrageous, be out, be –

you wonder what it is for me to want.

Yearning, desire, not to be alone

in this crushed, crowded space

of hollowed-out hopes, hook ups

consumed like fast food.

You ask my need–

is it a pleading for

understanding,

gentleness, kindness

among strangers?

you ask my want–

is it indulgence,

or a lack, an itch

of wanting to belong

to what, to who?