With these feminine wiles I will

use men to get what I want. 

 

I will laugh when jokes aren’t funny. 

Especially when jokes aren’t funny.

 

I will wear long skirts, 

so that imaginations must

be put to work.

But see also the softness of my chest,

a reassuring presence, 

so that imaginations must not

work too hard.

 

Nothing must be too hard

I must not be too hard,

indeed, to him I offer

my softness

as respite. 

 

I am duplicitous. 

(I dare not fool myself 

With the romantic pretence 

Of Walt’s multitudes)

I do not talk 

of the one who has my heart,

the only one to whom I wish

to reveal myself, fully.

 

Instead, when I am pulled close

and I know the time has come,

when I am invited

to fulfil my promise

with these feminine wiles I will not 

refuse him. 

 

I will entertain him. 

That I have no intention of opening myself to him, fully,

he must not know. 

Indeed, to him I offer

my consolation.

 

A kiss, on the cheek, 

serves only to say

oh not right now- it is not the time, 

wait for me, 

continue to be kind to me, 

I will reward you.

 

Later, when I speak to the one 

who has my heart

I tell him of the kiss on the cheek.

Of my reluctance,

of my shame,

that much is true.

But what I do not tell him 

is that the kiss was mine.

 

The kiss belonged to these feminine wiles

and I offered it to him.

To get what I want. 

But what that is I have never told anyone,

that for which I use 

and will continue to use 

these feminine wiles:

 

Something akin to ease.

Something akin to security.

Something akin to peace.