Frisked. Poem by Kim Dang

The prolonged moans of opera sirens will echo within imaginary looming chambers,
I close my lids, soaking in the aptly chosen playlist
My eyes otherwise never leaving this polished table, not straying once from concentration
But in my peripheral yours will have stayed long enough to sear two parallel lines through my green cardigan
Desensitized by background murmur, their foreign banter,
coupled with randomly bursting unstoppable laughter,
I've made it quite easy to bat away the strengths in my distractions
Still I feel the movement of your irises dancing, frisking my frigid body.
How intense it is to feel so completely naked, fully clothed.
And still while I'm studying, I can sense you judging
Spare me your visual interrogation, stranger.
Bloodshot, they follow my lines and prickle me with goosebumps
Is it too much to ask for some clemancy in exchange for your delayed gratification?
I resort to waiting long enough for the appearance of my replacement.