Hip Sway

By Jim Byrnes

I enter the room and there you are, my sensuous, magical siren. You notice me instantly and begin closing the distance between us. Your bare feet slide silently over the polished wooden floor. Your hips, as always, are swaying hypnotically, like a tender willow branch in a gentle breeze.

My anticipation builds as you draw nearer, your eyes never leaving mine. You pass by close enough for me to smell your perfume—Echo—which then lingers as you move away.

You look back from time to time to make sure I’m still watching, and I wish that I were still alive.