(poems go here) The slick
smooth
black high heels,
my weapons of choice,
disguise me as
a secret spy,
these trusty sidekicks,
two extensions
of my legs,
we glide
around the corner,
a slick
black car,
in the dead of night,
As a little girl
I tried on my mother’s,
now
I have my own,
I click,
I clack,
in these
goddess’
of footwear.