I would wedge her into a corner if I could, and do it
standing up or on the hard slick surface of her kitchen table, or softly on the
floor, or any way possible as long as I got it where it needs to go, to make
her feel it, any which way as long as it has the same outcome.
I see here in a room and zoom in, wondering how she would
feel wedged into a corner with me, we becoming invisible to anyone else, I
stare away, deliberately, to keep my thoughts secret, my gaze looking out the
large windows as a world beyond me. I do not want any of them – especially she
– to guess what goes on inside my head, this imaginary scenario, this corner
where I am wedged up against her, doing it, standing up, or any which way, even
on the green-topped table where others sit, a room full of prying eyes.
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