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016POETQ3
Finally Got Some Whistles
in a tattered high school diary.
I know it's not P.C but I'm
asking you, does a little "wow"
hurt? I'd like it better than being
asked barely over 30 if you
want a senior discount or have
a woman your own age offer
you a metro seat? "Finally got
some whistles," August 4, Cape
Cod. After days of rain, a relief.
It must have been in it says
a lavender dress and earrings.
No matter my mother wouldn't let
me actually go out with the boys
I met. "3 cute guys" it says on
the next page and "Hell," after
the definite no I couldn't go.
Listen, do you really think it's
demeaning, harassment if some
one just looks? Words like a
loving tongue. I'm not talking
about something creepy in the
alley at night but that look leather
pants (unlike sweats) always
get me, a reminder, if even not
30, someone's noticed my
long legs, huge eyes. a whistle,
a "baby," doesn't have to mean
anyone wants anything more
than the sun on the back of my
neck, lilacs brushing my skin with
a sweetness. I forgot I remembered
how my thighs are strong, my
breasts against cotton. "Baby,
baby," for once not blues but
an air kiss that reminds me I'm
alive and I should be glad that
someone else sees this
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