Peek My Curiosity

If her top slips a button
and I glimpse white lace,
I must time my glances
to seem to keep eye contact.

When helped from a car,
if her skirt rides up, revealing
a delicate curve of thigh,
I pretend to avert my eyes.

Those made-up girls on stage
don’t pique my curiosity
because I know for a dollar
they’ll show their breasts.

I’ll stay patient, preferring to peek,
while trying to earn that which I seek.