Premiere Generation Ink.

lost on a red couch.

Halfway in the bag
and even on the other side of the room
I can see her
Laughing
long slender fingers
Touching
the smell of her perfume
Audible
through the panicked anger
of my space
Looking down at my own
Stocky
Calves
Uneven
Skin
Frayed
Hair
And i hurt
so bad I want to hurt
Her
Touching you
And I dart my eyes
hoping someone will flirt with me
But there's no one
Except you
and she looks more special
than me.

Erin Duehring

This poem is appearing in the Book
twenty-three

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