She sits leaning over a drink that is fizzing quietly
Her head is covered with a navy blue shawl
Incongruous red light hits her in the dark room
So the drape is black
She wears a tight white skirt and this is turned red
Her slip shoes are very pretty in a congruent red
She becomes aware of my gaze
And raises the hem of her red skirt
With the shadow of an arm and hand
Beneath the skirt she exposes her red leg-bones
I do not need to see her face to know her
I imagine she knows me well
