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I didn't know until recently that a jockey's jacket is called their "silks".

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1fyYJsu0uerQ_BefVdLRp0YETR4uWH7gEezCRs9fSWPg/edit?usp=sharing

How I Use My Silks

i'm wrestling 
with my impatience
and seeing my 
little baby dictator come out
and try to be the one
out in front 
directing the parade

i have to ask myself
if i have any business
getting twittlepated by a guy
who does not fit the description
on my dream board
but whose arms call to me
and in whose eyes
i'd like to wander and lollygag
and check-out 
what species of plants 
grow in his garden

if the odds are not in our favor
when you look at odds 
through the lens 
of what color collar you wear to work
then it would seem 
perhaps like  
i'd be taking him 
for a ride

but no law says
two people can't try
for a loving connection
and if they fall flat
at least they were wearing
their best intentions
when they got 
mud on their shirts 

the mind has so many objections
that my body is overruling
the oxytocin level 
just fumes now 
down below empty
but in my earnest heart
i'm not using him
if my soul is sincerely curious 
about his

in the past
i've admonished myself
for placing the primacy of me
before considering 
kindness for another
and i've suffered from bad-person-itis
as a result
and i won't do that again 
where i can help it

that trust in myself
is a hard one 
prized possession
and i'm proud of it

it's hard to pick up a rider
from atop my high horse
and so i'm doing my best
to be aware of how i use my silks
to smoothly slide by someone sideways
and not stop in front of them
to let our hearts peer into each other
so i've got that i'm keeping an eye on
my constant tendency 
to jockey 
for the best position

but out in front
i'm looking out for my good girl
putting one foot before the other
walking out her door
and onto the street
where she's bound 
to meet someone
if only she won't bludgeon
them with her scepter 
before things get a chance 
to get going