Maureen McManus
Come to me
Don’t come to me with your gun
strapped to the side of your leg
telling me not to embarrass myself,
young man.
Don’t reject me
with that knowing look,
showing me that you can see inside
to my shame.
All the others would, they said yes,
of course they would sleep with me.
Not you. You say, don’t
embarrass yourself.
But I only want you.
You can see the truth.
Page(s) 45
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