6 January 2013
I'm sitting here, Trying to look pretty, and Sitting in a way that makes my legs look Long and smooth as polished wood, And graceful - like a dancers. My loose white linen dress has slipped a little, Exposing the smooth, brown egg of my shoulder And the careful dip of my collarbone. People float by On their daily pilgrimages to Cluttered, boxy offices and long, damp hallways, And each one - if only briefly - Glances across at me. I love this attention, I love the idea that a woman who walks past Might think to herself "Oh, how pretty" or "Her hat is divine!" Silent compliments that are never spoken. It gives me goosebumps to think that Men are stood with their cups of coffee, Tapping away on laptops, And undressing me with their eyes from behind the screen. I toss my blonde weft of hair over to one side, Revealing a graceful, thin neck to the sun, And take a deep breath in. It's not that I'm vain (Although I'm the first to admit that I sometimes am) It's that being admired makes me feel... Warm, or maybe appreciated. I never used to be like this, I never used to long For a wolf whistle, a wink, A hand to reach out and touch my waist Daringly, nervously, in an awkward, Fragile attempt to give me butterflies. I don't do this for you, I don't want you to see me like this, I want to be admired from afar by strangers, And then have you to myself behind closed doors. I say, I don't do this for you, This is for me to feel good about myself, Poised, draped, positioned perfectly As though I was carved in this very position. It was when you and I settled into this hazy Nonsensical soup of 'adulthood' Where we no longer kiss every time we are alone, And wandering hands don't slip between the sheets, In the glorious, velvet dim of night... And you no longer make me want to Undo one more button And play with my earring, Teasing you, pouting like a child. Because of this, I spend lazy mornings here outside the coffee shop With you sat across from me, Hair combed, teeth brushed, Shirt neatly pressed, and not asking to be ripped off And to send the buttons skittering everywhere, Trying to attract the wandering eyes of others. I would never cheat, No, That's not me, But this silent masquerade, Taken only with a glance Gives me all I need for now.
You sigh, and place your coffee cup back In its saucer, where it sits, Perfectly. "Madeline, your dress has slipped," You mutter, shaking a crease out of the newspaper. In the warm, July sun, you glow, Tanned and beautiful, The sexiest man I have seen by far, BUT BY FUCK..! You haven't looked up from that paper For 40 minuets now! And I gotta say, I've been trying real hard to be this... This work of art, this trophy, Admired, glorified, pedestal-placed...
Jesus Christ, Jerry, NOTICE ME!
The Seeker • Opuss № I