A look of interest.
Sizing me up like a piece of meat.
I catch what is thrown.
We are two at this table.
As we get up to leave,
I wait at the door as he relieves himself.
I am approached with a phone number.
I am with him, I say.
Defiance short lived.
Except when he is with her, I think.
(1.21.06)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem