I glance along the shelves. She looks askance
over her glasses. Thinks I don’t belong
She asks what I am doing, but she’s wrong.
I have a member’s ticket. So we dance
Apology for doubting. I accept
but still she wonders just how I got in
wearing a biker’s jacket. So I win
her trust, by quoting Sappho, How she wept!
That Greek! It is a language we can share
remember to be silent. On the desk
We lie. She snaps my bra. It’s like burlesque
How delicate we tease. I stroke her hair.
And this is how we paper over class
Audacity, quotations, a cute arse.