Following Chance

I hesitate to ask where
We are headed.
To tap Chance on the shoulder
Seems like such an intrusion,
A doubting that would be frowned
Upon and an asking that
Would take more confidence
Than mine. There is a wickedness to
Her as she purses her wine-stained lips
But I’d follow her anywhere.
So she rarely looks back
To see if I am on her reckless
Path. She knows I can’t resist
The refraction of light
Off the sequins of her dress.