this being
dedicated to wicked woman hiding cold eyes
behind overlarge sunglasses;
sporting blackest velvet dress coat firmly buttoned smoking
long, cruel cigarette lit from glare off your cartier-replete wrist
as hordes of men in line to perhaps hold your parasol
while you read tedious course material are turned away
by singular lazy wave of the unsympathetic hand,
ashes falling & cherry red nail polish flaming across
the patio panorama like hellfire;
with hard, rangy body and cut-to-shoulders
blonde curtain to hide behind, safe upon your wicker throne;
wary of males & their hidden, bursting sexes.