The Pick Up
i never knew her name.
she was not very good at it, it seemed to me.
her flirtations, too obvious.
a desperation for union i could not understand.
i love your eyes, she said with a come-hither smile.
she leaned in close and brushed her hand against mine
as though throwing a switch.
yet i was drawn.
by animal-emotional curiosity
or by a lust to be exploited by her for her selfish pleasure
i don’t know.
we picked a nearby motel.
i watched as she slowly undressed in the harsh light.
in the dimly lit bar, i had craved seeing her body in its fullness,
and now, with her delicate lines exposed in the florescent light --
it hardened me for her need.
i itched to be her instrument
to use without remorse as she saw fit.
now, she asserted after preparation, i am ready.
Copyright © Sam Toil | Year Posted 2014
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