Victoria

She stormed across the station
With heels in her hand
And phone in the other
Hair all a blare
Her thighs clapped in applause
At the wonder of it all

I followed her through the crowd
Grabbing glimpses
Of her bright green top
And her bright blonde hair
And her short, short skirt
That showed-off those bronze thighs
Rubbing together in the heat
Like a grasshopper
Calling me

Until she disappeared up the escalator
Taking her thighs with her.

© Simon Parkin