A Passing Interest

She’s staring out the window – down below
The people pass-by unaware they’re viewed;
It matters little to her where they go:
They are just proxis for her thoughts; her mood
Improves to see a handsome man; she’d dare
To close her eyes and strip that fine grey suit;
To check out both his abs and underwear;
But she’s up in her garret and it’s moot,
Whether he might look up to see her skirt
Has slid up past her knee; and she presents
A wide-thighed picture for a man, whose shirt
Should be stripped from his shoulders; the contents
Of briefs is more than passing interest
For a voyeuse who needs to be caressed.