Waiting at the end of the table,
I study and stare at the heads
on the assembly line as they pass
on by.

All with the same face, hair color,
eyes, the whole 9, and I begin
to wonder what I've done to create
this revolving door, this mundane plague of
the same Woman's face.

This proto-type of love.

I pressed the red button and went against all
things we know about pressing the red button,
and the line stopped, the heads all turned my way.

And as this was starting to become
too much for me to handle,
I was reminded why I had been in the other room with their
bodies for the last 15 years.
All sex
and no
eye contact.

03/08/2009

Posted on 03/09/2009
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