Back This Way Again

Close enough to the stage that I
can see the spit and feel the spatters of sweat.
Not just a groupie, no. Tell me
that I'm not just a groupie. You said.
My fingers have touched the strings of that guitar.
My fingers have touched the strands of that hair.
My fingers have touched everything about you.
You don't have to stare at me from stage.
I don't want to be the rock and roll cliche,
the sad song sung by Karen Carpenter just before
she starved herself to death. There is no
tragedy here. I am no small-town girl.
There are no stars in my eyes. I just want
to know that the song you're up there singing
was written about me.