I Walk in the Shadow of My Soft Flowing Skirt

Night finds me,

Half a woman,

Breathing the perfume

of soft, sweet lonely night.

My only guest stares

Back at me in mirrored silence; Half woman, I sit on the threshold Of bedroom dreams.

Smooth silk nylons let My dainty knees sparkle; The black lace of my slip

Is touched with painted hands.

How easily my nylon-captured feet

Slip into the red high heels,

And when I walk

The woman in me glides gracefully across the room.

I crown myself the queen With a wig of human hair, And it cuddles me

Until I have no care.

With lips of ruby red, And mascara to let me see, I am that lovely girl, That I wish myself to be.

My flowing skirt hides me From my aggressive self, And I walk in the shadow Of that skirt,

With pride of artificial womanhood, . . .

66

Monica-Ohio