Poetry Contest Submission 3

Nude Heels

it was a business foot massage
the busboy told himself
wiping the slick from his palms
this is when the callouses slipped
from the Matre D’s nude heels
pushed through the stocking
a thumb pressed to each
him, kneading

and he watched her thigh disappear
into the inviting dark of her pencil skirt
a flash of fabric
white, lace
the way fabric smiles when dampened

this is when his face turned away
and he cupped both her arches
tried to focus on her tarsals
worked his knuckles
into hers
like she wasn’t a woman
like he was counting out change

this is when the Matre D’ took over
this is when the pins were pulled
and when the hair fell
fingers clamped on the cold metal
her nude heels
arched in his nervous hands
her wedding ring
spun lonely on the cutting board
her, needing



About loyolapoets

The Greyhound Collective Poetry Revival would like to consider “mission statement” in its simplest terms. Rather than reiterate the boundaries of our task, we simply express our aim: to become a mission – a party of individuals sent out into the world with a message meant to unveil a uniting principle of truth. We define this message as “poetry.” We promote poetry as a viable and vivid art form, alive and accessible. Freed from its ivory tower, our poetry will breathe life into an ailing form while fostering an artful relationship with the greater community. We assert ourselves under the following mantra: “your mouth is a sign of how sacred your life actually is.” As a collective, we write to be sanctified. View all posts by loyolapoets

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