So well built, and so polished.
She is above my grade. And yet
agrees to clasp herself onto
my forearm for the evening.
Being a man of a certain age
I understand how this appears.
I am foolish to desire her.
Ours is but a paid arrangement.
The other men here turn their eyes
a bit too long, coveting
her golden exotic profile.
In victory, I am uncomfortable.
She is blameless in all this.
She did not solicit me. But still
must she be so mechanical?-
never a smile on her silver face,
nor embrace from her slender hands?
When pressed she only muses on
about the the time, and how it passes
bit by bit by bit by bit.
B Taylor, 2020