The Look

The look in their eyes tells me what they are thinking

they want to ogle without my notice

they think that I am stupid and do not recognize the glint in sly hooded eyes

Years of living with big breasts, curvy hips, round bottom and thick thighs

some would say my petite stature is genetically blessed

since my mother grandmother and great-grandmother all had similar attributes

In the present moment, those traits transmitted from generation to generation

seem to be more of an annoyance than a benediction

I have seen the same expression over a million times before

even when I thought I was disguising my figure in oversized clothes

They see me walking with a purpose

and deliberately slow their own pace

hoping that I am impatient enough to hurry pass them

so they can take a leisurely look

and begin to fantasize what they would hope do to all of this

I quicken my own speed, not wanting to waste time

grown immune to unwanted attention

They are not the first to cast a wanton glimpse and they won't be the last

I grit my teeth and force myself to endure the ensuing leers and smirky grins

"Go ahead and pass, since you seem to be in a hurry"

Their saccharine sweet tone is supposed to put me at ease,

If I am to believe they are gentlemen interested in ladies going first

as if I don't know the real reason they want me to proceed ahead

They part like the red sea, eagerly anticipating

to peruse every aspect of my body

but the joke is on them

my long black sweater conceals my curvaceous figure