I like a wide brimmed hat;
as if I could keep myself secret from the sun--
as if I could remain only a rumor to the rain.
I might wear it when I meet you beneath the clock in front of Filipe's.
Facing away, I will pretend interest in a passing autobus.
If I wear my wide brimmed hat and my big sunglasses,
then there will be fresh sheets on the bed tonight.
If I wear no hat, and keep my glasses up on my hair,
then I have found a stern gray god
and will soon be gone, to a mission in the hills.
This latter seems unlikely,
as fond as I am of my wide brimmed hat--
as vital to my style
as the ears that crown a cat.
Let the bus go by--
let me shyly dip my head as I turn,
so that my wide brimmed hat will hide the look in my eyes.
Hussy I am,
and hussy I'll die,
but let's pretend just for now.
In my rented nest, you can cast yourself
as the Seeker after Truth--
take my glasses lightly with your fingertips,
as the waiters do their trays when they pass the booths
at Felipe's. Give the lie to my girly lace--
remove it as if it were a stubborn student, and the Mistress--you.
A different fate for my wide brimmed hat, though,
I must beg. In exchange for my kisses bartered,
let it hang upon the post at the foot of my bed,
at a pleasing angle,
light blue ribbon cascading weightlessly down
like a lover's moon
after midnight above the Seine.
for my Fireblossom Friday challenge at Real Toads: "The clothes make the woman"