This Bar Needs Better Lighting

The last thing I noticed
is the vodka spritzer in your hand
As you lowered yourself down
like your wings were just made gossamer

The leather beneath you sighed and fanned itself
from the fire that just tumbled out of your gaze,
counting the number of people
that you will ignore

I won’t ignore you
or your face kneaded
into milk dough
I felt like a unwanted crease

Your face lit up
from the notification in front of you
Cackle after a giggle
after twin smiles

Those other men stopped looking then
because their lust doesn’t like human
Mine craves the familiar, like a morning brew with eggs
I’ve lingered and lusted long enough now

Back to my cubicle
Sparring with all my other neighbors
On who will concede defeat
and look at you again first.

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