Dear Sir,
I sit here quietly
seeming not to notice
how your tired blue eyes
leer at me.
Now if I had
a voice like yours,
and the courage,
I would have demanded
you look the other way.
Alas!
I don't (can't).
Dear Sir,
Quivering from fear here,
I implore you to divert your gaze,
look at the one on my right,
yes the one in red.
She's colorful
(so I've heard)
I am so pale and drabby
in comparison.
Or maybe the one on my left.
She is round
and smells of coconut.
They call her Tropical Kisses.
Dear Sir,
Quit licking your lips that way,
they seem to grow wider
and somehow
the knot of fear, in me,
twists tighter.
See the one sitting there,
beside the man with the coffee cup
twisting in his palms?
She seems more delightful company!
He's smiling, and impatient to have her.
Dear Sir,
do not point your finger at me
like some prize you have earned!
Hear my plea!
Do not devour me!
I'm only a day old.
Yes, me,
the chocolate eclair.