Legs Poem by Victoria Annette Bailey

Legs perched at the barstool
With the razor-wire pout
Wine glass resting pretty
On the palm she's holding out.
Wide-eyed and petrified
Men kissing every toe,
She brushes them to silence
And leaves them lying, lame below.
The power to incapacitate
Feline; she plays her prey,
Stalks toward the exit,
With guys falling in her wake.
Daises in her pupils,
And stars in every step
Her breasts don't need protecting
By those weak at sights of sex.
Feminine infinity
The future's sex appeal
Women step on male dominance
With just one Gucci-heel.