why i hate my job

she emerged from the shower
covered in nothing but
water
reaching for a towel
a cool breeze from the circulating air ran rampant across her chest
is it me i asked
she laughed
and walked away
knowing i couldnt stay
i watched her
as she
ran the pink terry cloth fabric across her skin
soaking up water
that i told her i would have drank slowly with a straw
she laughed
and walked away
knowing i couldnt stay
she sat in front of the vanity
but not being vain
she was confident about her frame
until somebody was watching
she began to cover her delicate skin
with exotic oils and creams
it was like a image from my dreams
i offered an extra hand
she laughed
and walked away
knowing i couldnt stay
as she blew a kiss my way
she
softly lay down against my bed
smiled at me and said
"have a good day at work"

damn im late again
and that is why i hate my job

(quiet da artist/copyright 2008)