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Ingrid

You tugged me from the busy room,
zeroed in on my discomfort.
Surprising in your boldness
(I always thought you quiet)
(We were barely acquainted)
“I’m glad you’re here”
you said,
and spoke to me like lovers do.
Your drug was truth, and then
I felt my youth again.
You held me closely in the stillness of a night dance.
Kissed my neck (odd for a woman to do),
and when the partyers came out,
you were gone with a last glance.
I retired to some corner, in thought.
And, when I came back in,
you were going,
with your unintroduced husband.
Leaving me stupidly standing,
with questions, so many.

Lee Dunn View All

Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.

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