National Anthem
Tell me I'm your national anthem
-Lana Del Rey
I want you to make me your national anthem.
I want you to sing me until you're breathless. I want to set fireworks—scarlet snow neon blue—in your veins and under your eyelids and all along your fingertips. I want to be your anthem on hot shimmery summer days and I want to make you hold your heart because it's getting away. I want to set off decorative and gory explosions in your cheeks and your stomach and your chest.
Your hand is on the back of my neck and you tilt my head up to kiss me harder. It is so hot and you are everywhere and God you are so handsome.
I want to be your national anthem and I want you to run me way off-key, keep me lingering in the burnt crimson evening until I (or you) snap. I want you to sing me when you're drunk at the game or at home and I want to be sung mercilessly until your lungs burst. I want to be the last notes dying away in the damp hot grass as the sun goes down. I want you to play me like one of your French girls, and I want to be played with wild horns and organ music.
You pull away for a half second, and I look at you, a flush of hair and open, useless mouth. I plead—silently.
I want to be your national anthem God you're so handsome and you play me off the scales with those August sky eyes. You laugh, rough and summery, at my expression and take me by the waist.
Your hand slides up my stomach—you are hot and overwhelming as summer evenings and everywhere you touch burns—and I just want to be played off tune with those hands that could make a piano blush.
Make me your national anthem and sing me electric. Sing me vulgar and blare me in time to the pulsing under your skin and my desperate fingers. You hold my jaw like you can't let go and kiss me, your breathing hard. I fumble with your belt, all greedy fingertips and startled noises.
Tell me I'm your national anthem and celebrate me like Independence Day: all heat and lights and lingering dark.
Make me your anthem make me your anthem make your anthem make me your anthem God you're so handsome.
"Please," I whisper, and you nod. You're so close your glasses are cold and damp against my face.
"Get going, then," you say. You grin, and I can trace it with my mouth. (But somehow it's still not close enough.) Make me your anthem and blare me in the dark: that's all I want. Play me until neither of us knows the words but they're still coming out of our mouths.
I stumble, pulling my shirt down and looking back always always to make sure you're following me.
I want to be your anthem God you're so handsome.
The door opens, and you take me by the hips and shove me inside.
And so, for a few bars, I'm the Star Spangled Banner and the fireworks are wild and you are singing me at the top of your voice.