Tease

 

Her good Sunday dress

pulled up in front

from bad posture

as little girls’ dresses

usually do,

not yet knowing

the ground’s rapacious stare,

holding her grown-up guitar

like the grown-ups do,

the oversized strap

wrapped around her leg,

a middle-aged serpent

whispering lingerie secrets

over her shoulder,

the guitar

riding up her stomach

like the teddy bear

she falls asleep with,

the claws in its feet

hiking up the dress in inches.

The snake,

watching.