Attraction

by Pam Newham

An Autumn-crisp morning.
In a room of like-minded people
I see a man’s face.
His eyes are on me.
I look away. Look back.
I cannot deny there is a frisson.
His smile says,
Come over.
His eyes say,
You know you want to.
Why should I trust him?
But I do.
I stride across,
shamelessly pick him up,
hold him close and
give a satisfied smile
as I brazenly take
John Irving
to the till.

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