Too nice,
too play-fair,
yet little did they choose
to know the bruise of her Achilles, heal—
from the hardened ballet soles,
the dandy polished Oxford shoes,
to the leather combat boots.

The bunions remained irreversible,
as she dreaded in changing rooms,
in the open river water Styx?

Not so chill—it’s plantar fasciitis.
Yet they say that she is a goody two-shoes.
Alas, she puts on her kitten heels;
extra studs, extra bling.
No red bottoms.
Chill.

👠