On Parade

She steps out
into the room
and turns once more
as if to say,
"In case
you were
not looking
the first time,
let me
explain this
to you
again."

She stops short
of passing
through the room,
drops her dress
and lets
her long
lean legs
step out
into the open space
unadorned
and shaven,
all the way
from foot
to navel.

Her gloved hands
take a turn
and cascade
upwards
into a spiral
as gentle
as spring rain
in heat ;
the sidewalk's
chalky mist,
a bead
of sweat
upon the onlooker's brow
as he glances
to see the rim
and ridge
of her ruffled
hair band,
pink too,
and gathering only
a forceful pony tail
to accentuate a smile.

And she
is on parade.

runningturtle87