She dresses
In unmatched pieces
Teasing me
With her style
Dancing before the mirror
Then blowing a kiss.
Who am I
In this audience:
A suitor?
A lover?
A surrogate, for practice?
She never tells me,
Just raises
One practiced eyebrow
That says with
Affection:
“I’m becoming a woman
And you can’t stop me!”
Penguin Poems 