Two Weeks

I have been touched, poked, prodded, and groped

Invaded, persuaded, berated by questions

None of which ask me for

“Yes, or no?”

 

I see you on the train

And for reasons I cannot defend

To companions who see me turn

Wild-eyed and small

In search of what I can say

Now?

 

Now that I am here and you are there

Now, with your arrogance

Bitter on my tongue

It curdles the words that I’ve 

Practiced so long

 

Give me two weeks

And I’ll be over you.

 

I swear I will,

This time?

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