10 Steps Behind

It’s hot as hell

The sun beats down

While we’re waiting for gelato

In a brutal crowd

He makes you walk

Ten steps behind

A shadow floating down the street

Just a pair of eyes

And they’re closed

Can’t see the sweat

That’s on your skin

While your husband looks through Gucci shades

Wears white linen

What kind of God forbids you’re seen?

Maybe it’s just a man

Who thinks you’re property?

I’ll never understand the way you live

I want to ask about it and it isn’t innocent

What keeps you covered up?

Some backwards superstition

Or someone’s idea of love?

Or is it both at once?