It’s all over,
But I don’t want,… “it.”
She keeps looking over at me,
Yet the instance
Does not seem to
Truly taunt me.
Beauty-struck eyes,
Perfectly dropped-cut shirt
With lace.
I’m sitting here
With no intention;
Her whole life
Encumbered by gawking men’s stares,
And all I can really laugh
To say is,
“Congratulations
About your face.”
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