Art by Rob Goldstein

I lift weights but don’t have the bulk for presence.

Men don’t enter rooms, we barge into them; think of Paul
Drake and Perry  Mason, think of the bulk in those suits.

Think of Della Street; why is she so fawning and efficient?

What does she do when she’s not pursing her lips?

These questions race through my mind as I lay on the mat
in the seclusion room.

Finally, Nurse Judy unlocks the door to ask if she can trust
me on the unit.

Of course, I say yes, wouldn’t you?

I watch the little dimples in her ass appear and disappear
as she leaves to fetch wrist restraints.

When we’re alone, we shall mate like peacocks.

Rob Goldstein (c) 2017 All Rights Reserved

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