“I look like a Cossack” she said.  

Her first thought was,
           “I shouldn’t buy these tall red leather boots.”
My first thought was,
           “I think we should do it while you’re wearing those.”
Her next thought was,
           “I look like a cute little Cossack girl with these.”
My next thought was,
           “You crazy eastern-bloc woman, you’re no Cossack.
           You’re west of Kiev for sure.”
Her next thought was,
           “I’m East Side all the way, baby.”
My next thought was,
           “Oh yeah, well show me some East Side swagger, then.
           Old school. Real Cold War swing.”
Her next move was to walk around like a chiseled princess,
           all streaming red onto the floor.
My next move was to laugh, and then see those boots for real.
           I saw her move like the woman she is.

Her next move was to call me over.
My next move was to play hard to get.
Her next move was to lift the skirt so I could see her leg.
My next move was to pretend I didn’t notice.
Her next move was to give me that “c’mere boy” look.
My next move was to smile just a bit.
Her next move was to give up.

My next move was to grab her ass,
          and kiss her hard and sturdy – like a Cossack.

Her next move was to pull away.

My next move was to say “c’mere girl”.

Her next move was red.

© 2006 Mike Gravel