Pump

Irresistible – how could I not
buy those purple snakeskin pumps
with the black patent leather platform
and 5-inch stiletto heel. Stunning,
and a divine sign – one pair left
and my size, discounted, clearance,
whatever. I had to have them.

I strolled through the shoe department
wearing them, admonished to
please stay on the carpet
by the male clerk who seemed to have a tad
too much interest in shoes, or was it just
this pair, fondling the round peep-toe,
sliding his fingers up and down the heel shaft
before slipping it so gracefully on my foot,
me feeling like Cinderella until I noticed
that odd look clouding his bourbon brown eyes.

I walked, pranced, sauntered past floor mirrors
admiring the curves that hugged my heel,
supple leather on my instep, so bold, so brazen
a towering stiletto. I swooned, he raced over,
his hands firm on my forearm as though I might
topple. He guided me back to my seat, slow
and sensuous slipping off my foot, I was
unCinderelled, felt naked without those pumps.
He smiled, or was it a leer.

I nearly broke a nail slapping my credit card
on the counter, hugged the bag through the mall
to my car, raced home, walked half a mile
from kitchen to living room to dining room,
avoiding the steps, just a little too soon
to climb in these sumptuous creations.

Now, a month later, I pull the bag from
the closet floor, open the box, put them on
and runway through my bedroom, hallway,
but not venturing downstairs, still too soon.
Someday, I will wear them outside, scratch
the soles on concrete, see sunlight sparkle
snakeskin, but for now, this is enough.

~ J R Turek
June 27, 2020
Hour 2