She attaches her hair
At the party with her elbows high
Armpits bare and exposed
They say
It’s a subconscious sexual signal
Par excellence
And she’s an adept
Like she’s had a tutor
But I’m no suitor

On the phone
One hand holds plastic
While the other
Punctuates
Every
Word
Conducting
Like it can be heard
Like her vocal sidekick
But I’m no psychic

But when she passes a stranger
Her gazelle gaze belies her stride
Jogs the strap of her bag
A little raise upon her shoulder
A wee bit bolder
A little snugger
But I’m no mugger