GIN & TONIC

I was intrigued by the way she ordered it,
as if it were liquid gold,
or melted platinum,
or the essence of past lovers:
a private erotic pleasure.
It was like she belonged
to a bygone era
when women were elegant
and expected to be wooed,
and a mere hint of perfume
or glimpse of an ankle
could drive a man insane.

She sipped from her glass
like an aristocrat
from some grand stately home.
But her domain was darkened streets
and drunken men spilling out
after closing time.
The gin and tonic
just about made it palatable -
that Soul-destroying cost
of being a working class woman
cursed with expensive tastes.