Plain

Her smile is a whisper and her words a monologue
When she walks it’s never in high heals
Always in flats
Black
And new
No stains
Or slip ups
Folded laundry from the back line
Always nice and mannerly
And when He looks at her
It’s always right through
Her teacup stained fingers aren’t right for him
No room for bed sheets and tables
No room for messy hair
All is kept row in row
Kept slightly wavy
But not too much so
And when she watches him in the check-out isle
She never lets her mind wander
Don’t be indecent girl