Monday, February 18, 2008

metric exchange

i massage your
neck, ask does that
help is it
here? hmmm that feels good. yes? i
always thought i should be a therapist
but at my age i'm glad
that's not what i do. it wears you out. my hands
travel to your spine, find
the knot, knead it you say
yeh babe, right there.
my thumb finds the spot
and pushes i ask in silky
tones what's my name? babe.
you state. no
what's my
name? bit more
pressure to your spine
oh you don't like that? why?
i remove the thumb and get off the bed casually
gathering my stuff, because
i'm not your babe. you say
so that's it? o
yes, my profile said
dishonest it's true but i guess
you forgot the drama queen part. i close
the door on your ironic yet
upset smile. you figure the massage
was worth dinner
and you didn't have to find
out if you really still couldn't get it up.

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