(The girl in Your Heels)
It’s been many months.
Your weight-reduction plan appears to rock.
Your face struts, eyes meet mine.
“Hi” and you mumble a response to me
With a whiff of coolant down my spine.
The eating mess is empty
But for three:
A guy digging into his rice,
You and your friend.
As I enter, I am held by your meeting eyes.
Two others have come with me for tea.
We sit. I face you, a table in between.
You talk to friend in insistent tones.
Our eyes do not meet those fifteen minute
Even though your favour — I’ve never tried to win it.
I think, in you, I remain a danger,
I think you’re the ever-aware she-cat
That sniffs danger and garbage alike in a
Lone Ranger. You sense, you see through prophetic eyes
The jerk consuming you in civil disguise.
I see you, even where I sit, in spite of it
How, in sufferance, you would submit.
That compact you preserve in furtive evading
You yield to entertain on bended knee
The right loyal harder-darling of Penelope.