To Delilah, From Samson

I never see you anymore.
I look for you in doorways off the main drag,
Thinking I've spied the press of your hip
Against the frame,
But the shadows mock your attitude
          too well.

On Friday afternoons,
I stare out my window,
Ignoring my phone's insistent buzz
Informing me much less dangerous people
Want my attentions.
Instead of answering,
I search the muddy tides passing in the street,
Praying for eyes inked on bared shoulder blades
           to surface.

Sometimes, at one in the morning,
When the world is coming loose
From its moorings,
I'll turn too abruptly and fall.
As the bricks abrade my palms,
The distant clatter of high heels
I mistook for your savage laugh
           fades.

I remember you took me dancing.
Your fishnets were ripped,
Your lace miniskirt flashing red silk
At every turn -
You told a slavering man
It was purposeful.
We exchanged smirks over his shoulder
As you nibbled his neck.
I did not recognize the edgy emotion I pushed down
            as jealousy.

No, I never see you anymore.
It makes me nervous,
Like a crocodile in a river,
So busy eyeing horses along the banks,
He has only just realized
He has lost sight of the hippopotamus.