Torture

The door opens and
he’s standing there

(and the irrational
part of me wants
to camp out here
from now on and
wait because) he’s
always ready to
see me when I’m
standing in his path.

He lets his hand graze
across my back whenever
I get within his reach and
I’d never dream of
discouraging him,

in fact, I welcome it.

But amid all the bright
and begging moments
I have to pause and

plead with him to
please stop
torturing me
this way.

I’m standing in his path.

I get out of the way
whenever he asks
but he always seems
to like seeing me
standing in his path.

I just wish he didn’t
spend so much time

standing in his own

and torturing me
with it this way.
~4/19/17
___
… MEN.

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