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detroit steel
one hour
forty-five minutes
to her front door
i make myself a target
with becoming guile
she takes her clothes off
i can see her bathing suit
through her tan lines
telling a joke
about bears
with kisses
along her back
i analyze
the shape
of envelopes
she says
she is in awe of
my writing and
now we are even
You set the scene perfectly, and the poem operates unobtrusively while creating the desired effect.
J-Called