Idol
A wash of words and
he’d got me
a brushstroke blue-jean greeting
‘hi, howareya’
Quivering in my
Static stilletoes
Uncomposed, all rhythm gone
‘um,fine thanks’
His curling smile-sneer
Lascivious lipped,
affection affected.
The ground shifted
I breathe in his effort scent,
and beer breath,
Pheromone filled
as cheap cologne
the movie in my mind
sees the handshake
as entwined torsos, arms, legs.
Then he moves on.
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