Seduction

You winked at me today
outside the entrance of King Soopers.
Don’t you know that girls, yes, girls,
no matter their age or shape, looks
or gait, love to be flirted with?

Oh, I know the clerk from Belgium
always flirts with me. Those Europeans,
especially that one, know how to put
a smile on my face.

But you were daring craving my
acknowledgement. A quick smile
in return was not enough for you.

A breeze fluttered by on this
blustery day. Was it your own
attar or one nearby catching
my attention?

Another glance before I stepped
into the wide-gap mouth to gather
my goods that would not satisfy
your hunger.

I couldn’t resist you.
I turned to meet your gaze, make your
acquaintance. I gave in to your
iniquitous offer.

I won’t have to tell
my husband, he’ll know my
transgression. He’ll notice my smile
and lilt in my walk. The far away
gaze out the kitchen window and the
hidden trinkets in the trunk, confessors
of my secret.

But through the years his forgiveness
returns each spring. He smiles knowing
that frost will still come and snow may
fall, but he will indulge me in my passion.

Bewitched I reach out to your blazing eyes
and exquisite form. I wrap my hands around
your waist. Pansies, you seducers. You tease
me every spring.

.

.

.

.
Author’s Note:

It’s true.

 

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