Heels

The pink sandals
With heels-

Every time I run down
The stairs.
There's something about
The pair.

The beauty, the curiosity,
The sheer deception
As they neatly sit there
Catching my eyes..

After weeks of 

This encounter-

A fantasy got around
The sight of them.
The imagery took shape
Of a fetishized face.

Then the fancy met,
The reality when,
My landlord's girl,
Opened the gate.

Ahh! The disappointment.

Never meet your idols
They say. The reality of a
Fantasy is often a
Disgrace.