March 2005 / Volume VI / Issue II
Matt Smith
Jupiter

It didn't matter
that her ass had dimples
and stretch marks all over it
as she danced for him in the dining room
moving around the table
turning dirty circles.

He delighted in her nearness
and shamelessness
as she writhed in front of the window, 
moving in and out of his view. 

He sipped black coffee and smoked cigarettes
as the couple next door celebrated
something . . . it didn't matter what.
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