She leaves the wine bottle in the bottom desk drawer
undoes two buttons on her white blouse,
French cuffed, of course. Lace peeks out.
Jeweled pendant lies between her breasts, the chain
offers a direction.
She stands, displacing gravity to expand the view.
Her black pumps click on the linoleum in the hall.
She pretends to talk on her cell phone,
pausing by his open door; her chest rises on a
tingling laugh she knows he won’t resist.
Her black pencil skirt covers the assets tightly,
in taunting style,
“See you later, then!” she tells her imaginary
phone companion,
as she strolls to the photo copier room,
trailing temptation behind her
without a backwards glance.
.
.
(A poem based on a new novel project).
Shawn L. Bird 