A small machine
in a deep fold
of my brain
lifts each corner of my mouth in turn
and I smile at the pretty woman
behind the counter.
A whisper
automated
sends a spark to my chest,
and I let go
all the charm
I can muster
as the worm in my groin
stirs, recoils,
from the electricity
of this unfamiliar arena.
A feeling, not unlike
hunger
fear
paints the inside of
my stomach.
Her teeth are
straight and white.
Her eyes reflect
something from the inside
I’d never seen.
I am validated.
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