Trouble

Black hair cut short, a bit of stubble;

black shirt, cropped sleeves, a scarf, dark jeans;

a gaze that says, let’s make some trouble;

goes to the gym, he’s muscled, lean.

Not my type, I should stay clear;

I take anxiety meds,Ā  he has no fear.

What could I possibly see in him?

But I’d like to go out–or maybe stay in.

Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper

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3 thoughts on “Trouble

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