A precise woman, something of a control freak
with hair cropped short, reminds me
of the military
brings order to my life and thoughts
while she arranges everything
putting shining shoes in their place,
panties, pantyhose, brassieres shelved
in neat rows
in a easy accessible way
and even when we make love
her behaviour is predictable
from the removing of her stockings,
where she folds them,
the look in her eyes
and her whimpers and cries
and yet somehow
there is something sweet in the loving,
in the order that she brings.
[Reference: A Precise Woman by Yehuda Amichai.]
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