On Going Out With The Old Lady

She's under this illusion.
Men still look at her and
have some sort of interest in her. 

Always applies makeup before leaving
the house.
Checks then re-checks clothing in
an almost ritual-like dance
in front of the mirror.

Babe, I say to myself, cause.
I’d never have the nerve tell her
to her face.

That men gawking at you ship,
as long sailed.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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