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L. Lamar Wilson

Tonight, this stranger invites my tenderness inside him.
His nipples welcome my tether, but in this space

between his bared back & my left arm outstretched as if
mummified, teeth are not safe. Latex balloons to my breath

as I struggle to remove my shirt. Baby, can you help?
He turns, lips pursed, sees only the scars I forgot to explain.

I’m sorry, dog, I can’t get fucked by a cripple. I pull
on my shirt & leave, sullen & untouched as I came.

L. Lamar Wilson

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