and she felt bad for me.

surrounded by
books
old and new
some arranged
on shelves
on tables
and some stacked
in bundles
a few
just
lying around

I stood
in the
small stuffy store
breathing in
the scent of
decaying books
and
listening
to the noise
of an old
fan

it must have
been around
two hours
since
I met this girl
with a sweet ass
who loves
sewing
pronounced sowing
she insisted
and the
conversation
had dried up
long ago

it was time
to leave
I pulled her
close and
tried to steal
a kiss
she pushed me
away
and said
‘I don’t consent’

and I thought
hell
this would make
a good
poem
someday

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