It’s strange.
When I thought you were wearing boots today
I thought you were cool.
I thought you were hot.
I thought you were a rebel.
Seeing the hint of a Doc Marten sole
made me imagine you as some sort
of hardcore figure
ready for anything
just waiting to kick ass.

I thought you were special.
I thought you were powerful.
I thought you were pretty, self-possessed and important.
Then you lifted your skirt
and I saw the sandals underneath
and the socks under them
and everything changed.

I had misunderstood
what I was seeing
but it all became clear
and nothing was the same.
I am afraid
we cannot speak anymore,
you hippie freak.