I want Louboutin

heels with those trademark red soles,

I want them sexy, I want them high.

I want them slingback and peep-toed 

so I can flash the purple polish 

on my tootsies.


 I want to wear them out of the store, just

you try and stop me. 


I want to wow them on 

Washington, saunter past C&O Trattoria  

and Nick’s Liquor Mart, those bottles of Stoli

stacked in the window, calling my name, past the 

summer-clad tourists in December, shivering,  

barefoot, like LA has no winter.


In those shoes I’m hot,  

stop-a-truck hot, prettiest 

girl in school hot, and this

time, I know it. 

Flaunt it. Hell, I own it. In those shoes I can  

pick and choose, not settle for some loser.  

Not drink away regrets, pound back Stoli at  

Chez Jay’s, flash their scarlet bottoms when I kneel. 


I’ll wear them like my own flesh,

like hooves, like sin.

I’ll keep their secrets, won’t spill

where they’ve been.


Better those shoes with their lurid soles

than you with yours.



©Alexis Rhone Fancher 2013. First published in BoySlut,

nominated for a Pushcart Prize, 2013