She had wet looking eyes went straight to your heart <br />And greasy locks and a throat that talked <br />It's own secret language <br />To open collars and unbuttoned blouses <br />That you bent your head to, so you wouldn't get left out <br /> <br />She left sentences dangling and legs that, gangling <br />Seemed always in the way <br />Gesticulating wildly while her gait let something <br />Desirable, loose in the world- <br />Bet you lost all your bets on that crazy-ass girl <br /> <br />She got wild political ideas, though not very original <br />Like old Tarot cards, left over from the radical <br />Sixties, but she's straight out of the pages <br />Of some avante-garde novel <br />That you stayed up all night reading <br />In college to impress some high-class girl <br /> <br />You should have met her earlier <br />But she was just another girly <br />You'd have left in the dark; <br />And now she's quite sincerely interested <br />In intimate conversation and low key wine drinking <br />Cross legged in the park. <br /> <br />And you know with her you'd want to <br />Elaborate the principles of non-linear thinking <br />And comparative distortions <br />Of the war between the sexes- <br />But now you can't even talk.<br /><br />Patti Masterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-had-wet-looking-eyes/
