is there anything more peaceful
than a woman getting dressed
running shadows of butt and chest
to the sounds of morning traffic

she may be going off to work
or just trying to not be a bother
or maybe she's thinking of another
more respectful fella to come home to

her jeans are about two times smaller
than anything i could fit one leg into
revealing through a few self-assured clumsy moves
that she indeed can swim through fabric

i turn over to my stomach
smells of oatmeal and light perfume
mix together in the tomb
of a struggling tourist attraction