the idle hour passed swiftly
watching them not watching me
peeping the Toms

eyes drinking each nuanced moment
his hand on his knee
pointing the spinach, a lovers’s teeth

proprietary still, but not so strong
for neither seemed too large (I was watching)
neither in charge

though surely it is awkwardly the case
I have sometimes found it so
even as I rested my sleeping palms

between another’s breasts as soft as mine
someone must surrender for victory
eventually picking up the cheque

Categorized as musing

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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