Wasting no time for seduction,
they move, make the hit. ZZT!
They need you like air, blood,
and your skin wells red, blotchy …
fierce itch a constant reminder.
Some men are like mosquitoes.
You’re walking down the street
on a sunny day, eating ice cream:
chocolate almond, sure, your favorite.
A guy whistles, calls out, “Hey,
Babe! Love your ass!” As if you care.
Then you’re standing at the water cooler
and a co-worker steps too close, cops
a feel. Or perhaps you’re relaxing, reading
The Rubaiyat at 3 AM when the phone rings.
Heavy breathing shatters the silence …
Dianne Moritz writes to make sense of life and love.