What I Assume

A Summer Foot

Five toes, uncannily fat and even,
   wide her foot
   span of a sandal.
She stretches
showing dark brown impressions beneath,
sweet cushions from toe prints.
Her big toe, unstirred by my glance,
points it’s convex nail up
   a devil’s horn.

She has rye bread eyes, strawberry yogurt lips,
hair like hong cha, too;
but I can not bear to catch that beauty–
safer to stare towards the floor,
dissembling digits that end her limb.

She stands, and I foresee how she
     steps sandled through sudden summer rain,
    dips in to test the tub,
   extends from the water when shaving,
  drips to the rug when leaving, and
 slides slightly cold and alone
toes-first inside the sheets.