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On this squeaking corridor,

I saw your wooden door slightly ajar.

Your shirt clutched your slim body

like the corset gown I’ve worn during my prom night.

It illuminated your shoulders like Rupert Everett

as you heave in your sleep.

And when the clicking sound of metal knob echoes.

With haste,

I shut my door with a vibrating thud.

~*~ 2008-ish

 

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