The Private View
She’s a girlfriend’s friend she’s blonde with deep blue eyes seeming to dream of liquid desire We’re caught in between the innocence of virtual sexuality We sit down by the window with glasses of red wine "I know how to control men you see" The aroma of her perfume is disturbing as are her knee weakening crossed velvet legs uncrossing. "I work in Soho I do exotic dancing there" she said in a power dress outfit Waves of blonde hair fall on breathing breasts of narcissism. feeling her flesh skin tight legs cross back psychotically Inside fears of a death union with her smoulder in dark distorting atmospheres of static intercourse. "you see I know what to look out for in men" "how do you know?" I said "It’s all in their mannerisms I see it when I dance in their faces but they don’t see me". Probing me extra-meaningfully we talked I mentioned my mother Her eyes metaphysically shooting me like a shark the legs closed This was the end of a great friendship.
