Body Language

Oct 9 2011

Her body language

was impeccable.

The eye roll

she had perfected,

the weary sigh
that shoulder gesture.

Curtly dismissing the rest of the room

but coolly enlisting you,

a minority of 2

in mute forbearance.

And demurely crossing her legs,

toes en pointe

ankles caressing.

Perching coquettish

showing-off those endless legs,

all eyes on her.

Then tossing her hair,

so casual, it seemed an afterthought.

But she knew its effect on men,

her shameless power

over the weaker sex.

And when the tip of her tongue

teased her upper lip,
red, and glistening.

Not quick

like a snake's flicking hisss,

but languid, sensuous.

An innuendo

no one could miss.

She laughs at your jokes

and bats her lashes playfully.

She matches you

move for move,

uncannily in sync.

Even the way she sits

with perfect diction, perfect pitch.

A wicked smile,

eyes fixed on yours.

And somehow

her hands find you

across the starched white tablecloth.

Skin soft, nails long,

elegant fingers

and strong tanned arm.

Her posture’s cool

but her touch is hot.

The conversation stops,

not awkwardly

but as natural as if it were scripted.

Because talk is clumsy, words an encumbrance

when the signals come

so unambiguous.

And later on

you will trace her with your hands,

like a blind man reading Braille.

And she will be your amanuensis

translating every detail.

That tongue

which touched your desire

now insistently probing your ear

with hot wet urgency.

As you strain

to hear under her breath,

make out the wordless whispers.

A good title on paper, but I think a better one to hear recited. Because then it’s both “body” and “bawdy” — not just the semiotics of movement and expression, but a wordless seduction as well.

The poem started with a short comedy bit I heard about eye rolling. (Which wasn’t actually that funny!) I thought this might be a promising start to a word-play poem, along the lines of “eye roll …head toss …knees cross …eyes lock”, or something like that. And it took off from there.