My Black Shoes by Virginia Hainsworth

My black shoes.

My shiny, black patent shoes.

My full-back black shoes.

My lean-heeled black shoes.

My higher-than-high black shoes.

They are special, my black shoes.

Look at me, they say.

My glamorous black shoes.

I stand tall in them.

I feel majestic in them.

They hold me at the top of the stairs,

poised to convey me down

and make a graceful entrance.

My inky, ebony black shoes.

One last look at the way they elongate my legs.

One last look at their gleaming, resplendent beauty,

before I remove them

and walk barefoot downstairs.

They will not throw me headlong today.

My killer black shoes.