collected sharply folded small denominations,
she paused with her back to her audience.
The prize of her lustful gaze was herself. She peered into the mirror before her,
as if to confirm her existence,
or her perhaps her fate.
Her buttocks moved independent of the rest of her body.
For a moment she toyed with the ends of her bikini top
tied in a Byzantine knot
not even the most experienced seaman could undo.
Staring obliquely at her mirrored self, she cocked her head to the side
as does a child suddenly seized by curiosity,
and ceased the sing song undulation of her derrière.
Holding her right leg aloft
with the most genuineness displayed thus far,
attacked an itch on her thigh.
Before her right foot was deposited on the terra firma I had cleared out my wallet.