She’s practiced at it. You can tell: expensive dress, eyeshadow just so.
The way she dips her eyes and glances over your shoulder, as if
There’s something she’s idly wondering but of course, it’s a ruse.
She’s scanning escape routes and planning getaways she never uses.
She’s convincing: if you weren’t on her payroll, you’d have no clue
She wasn’t just another doll in here to listen to the jazz and maybe
Find her way back into some guy’s apartment, into three kids and
A life of ease and blueberries, champagne and laughter but
Reality is she’s the brains of the operation and one of these days
Some guy is going to put his hands wrong somehow and end up
Laid out flat wearing that pretty lampshade in the corner as a hat.
She flicks her eyes back to your face, taps her unlit cigarette on its end,
Gestures minutely with an incline of her neck and that’s it, fate sealed.
Another jerk who thinks he can get his way, slip into any old skin,
Take without asking, will find himself cut out and cold
And be no wiser. Word’s getting around though; town’s changing.
When she sets her mind to something, town doesn’t have a lot of options.
