your button broke

don't treat me like
an object she says
with her blouse open
and a long slit
up the side of her
leg, baring almost
all of it to the hip.
she stamps her high
heels then pulls out
a compact and applies
another layer
of red lipstick.  she
tosses back her dyed
brown hair frosted
with blonde and
snarls. i won't be
treated that way.
i want respect
and to be taken
seriously, not as
some sex object.
i'm smart and educated,
i know the theater
and poetry,
literature, why just
today i went to
the museum of fine
arts. what? you say,
did you say something?
i was distracted.
i think one of  the
buttons broke off from
the front of your blouse.