Vanity
Fifth floor walk-up, light is fading,
lamp is lit, the curtains stay pulled back;
loose-limbed and limber like a tiger
set to spring she's geared up for
the evening's entertainment.
Hungry eyes in mirrored windows watching,
palms sweaty and expectant.
She's on her mettle,
going through her game plan
with a slow and sensual grace,
puddling her garments
and purring like a cat,
her pulse is racing!
The flutter of her heartbeat
and the shortness of her breath
betray the depth of her excitement.
She draws the drapes,
the game is done, her vanity
still cries for validation.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment