She is
all shuffled feet
and lowered eyes,
seeking shelter
from sultry summer winds
and the lurid leers
of men seeking women
young and blond with big . . .
like her.

She glances
as she guards a frail match flame
and lights a bobbing cigarette.
She breathes out,
slowly,
and the smoke twists
through her curls—
like the fingers of
a jealous lover.

She is
all shuffled feet
and lowered eyes,
seeking shelter
from sultry summer winds
and the lurid leers
of men seeking women
young and blond with big . . . 
like her.

She glances
as she guards a frail match flame
and lights a bobbing cigarette.
She breathes out,
slowly,
and the smoke twists
through her curls—
like the fingers of
a jealous lover.

Our eyes don't meet.
They collide—
accidentally, but with force,
bodies on a suddenly stopping subway.
Desperate to avoid
an imagined intention,
she lowers hers
and seeks anonymous shelter,
unaware that
this only makes her
more lovely.

She stays
behind scratched bus stop glass
toeing a crack in the walk.
Watching
my feet with
downcast eyes,
ready to flee
a predator's
approach.

Wary of me,
she misses
the muscled man
who pounces
from behind.
Surprised,
she bristles at his
mating call and shows
reluctant claws.

She stays
all shuffling feet
and lowered eyes
once the hunter withdraws.
She is safe and free and left
alone.
A smile briefly
slips before she demurely
casts it to the sidewalk,
unaware that it only
makes her more
lovely.