Blank Stares

She watched
the men dancing,
giving their best
to show their stuff,
muscle and sinew,
and there
in the audience,
unflinchingly
rigid,
she was
so disconnected
that if no film
had been on
and they had been
sitting alone
in the dark,
it wound not
have been
any more
or any
less sensual.

Her libido
was so dulled
that the nearly naked,
the sweating invitations,
the throbbing,
and gyrations
were merely
bad dancing
that had made little
or no impression
other than
to become
the symbol
of eleven dollars
that would never
be reckoned
with again.

And once at home,
she pulled up a seat
on the couch,
petted the cat,
and watched
Blazing Saddles
for the 20th time
while her  
at one time lover
of 40 years
did the dishes
and then polished off
a very large bowl
of grapefruit.

runningturtle87