jostling, shoulder to back to chest,
I cower thru the bar to get
to my friends. I saw you

staring at the place where
my nipple presses against
my shirt when I first walked
in, and now you reach out

to grab my arm. again, I’m
twenty-three, again, your hands
are on my waist and I shrug,
pull away. I want to scream

at you, to tell you your mistake
but fear is a sunburst near to
my heart. I want to scream, I shrug
and pull away, to press thru

to my friends. instead, I talk
at the top of my voice, I call
for more. instead. when I tell
a friend how you scare me, she
brushes it off. I can’t.

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