Monday, 25 April 2011

Chance Meeting

Her freshly coiffured hair
Stopped me in mid pace
Perfect make –up, flawless face

Her skirt sat crisply upon her hips,
Her blouse floated gently down
Her shapely legs swished, smooth, sharp and sheer

And I thought that I saw a strap, thin and taut
Perhaps a bow, I am not sure
And a glimpse of lace, momentarily, then gone.

It was a back zip you know, with button fastening
And a kick split
It finished just above the knee

But the crowd engulfed her
In a sea of grey
Until the next day

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