Pretty Purple Plimsoles

pretty purple plimsoles,
punctuate the floor,
perfectly,

and as I see her twist her hips,
and lick her lips,
she looks at me,
with eyes that see,
the way that I,
just want to try,
and steal her away,

and have her to myself,

not to put upon a shelf,
or take way her sense of self,
just to have her to myself,
simply now to hold,

her hair heralds hereditary heroism,
so heavy,
it falls upon her shoulders,
she smoulders.

and as she turns away from me,
my eyes do look and it's plain to see,
how perfectly, those curls do flee,
away from my observatory,

and now I feel in pain,
at once now I feel I'm slain,

for now she leaves me in a trance,
and does not give a second glance,
and walks away out of my day as if the lead role in a play!

so I clasp my hands,
and make a play,
that one day I might once again see,
those beautiful curls,
those perfect lips,
those buttocks and amazing,
legs.

heads turn,
I sit there, and quietly burn,
she turns suddenly, and exits through the door,

pretty purple plimsoles,
punctuate the floor.