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.