Sexy Shoes

They cannot clean my home, take out the trash, cook me dinner, or wash the pile of dishes in my porcelain sink. When I woke up this morning they could not answer my questions, direct me as to the weather, or bring me coffee. But, in the store, in the box, out of the box, on my ever wanting feet, oh they are so god darn sexy. They make legs look longer, calves even more defined; even my toes now feel sexy (inclusive of the new red polish on my toes). Yes, absolutely, the wise voice inside my head made the very difficult decision to purchase the sexiest new shoes I now own. They brought with them quietness to the sense of crisis about what I should be doing with my spare change right about now. Obviously, I now know, I should be buying new heels, which I cannot even imagine ever taking off, not even when I go to bed at night. I will close my eyes on my pillow and envision the dramatic appeal of them, as I sashay along the avenue, (any avenue, any street, any corner, just because they are black and lace, feminine, sexy, and best of all, now they are mine)