My Ferragamo Shoes

The minister was waiting for me with
the Ferragamo shoes
Bordeaux, flat, size six
in his palms

The clock stroke twice
I blinked once
I walked into the well-lighted room
They were too good to be true

Carefully, like a glassmaker in love,
I patted the sleek leather
My right foot first, then the left
slowly slipped into the shoes

Behind the pumpkin parked like a Porsche
his footsteps reached me
The minister left us all alone
and closed the door for us

He whispered me three words
My Ferragamo shoes held her breath

Ferragamo Shoes

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