the night comes and the midriff becomes the instigator
i walk around the playground so he will not see me
another! and i curve inwards only to walk into a post
for a split second i think he is not the sort, not tonight, not one after another
but on his bicycle he does not look down, only straight at me.
i recover from the concrete pressed into my toes
just as he murmurs a suggestive hello.
does my knit cardigan have too many holes?
i wish to disappear
to deny a gaze, to be seen any longer
who do i think i am?
what flattery you give yourself.
moments after
and i am still contorted
limbs crossed over each other as if that would help force me into non-existence.
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