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The Non-Encounter

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Click here to read. See also below. All comments welcome. :)






In seat sixty-two, the most beautiful man

checks his email using fingers

more than beautiful, and on a laptop that can,

with that neat haircut, freeze me with desire

if he is not careful of his conversation

with Miss Idaho to his right.

By the time his dating history is touched upon

I am hazy with thoughts of moist tight

couplings, of subsequently checking my hair

and conversations, of telling

a disinterested passenger that I had a fair

number of lovers, and other thoughts that bring

me to the washroom, where I exhaust myself in

visions of breasts, and not of men.

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