Underpainting

He oozed luxe. We called it ripped. The abs and biceps 

made him riveting and ripe for running

for office. Mayor, say. Or some impromptu board 

with power over, versus power with, as the lore goes. 

His teeth gleamed. His laugh, contagious. 

He owned the room and people were 

eating out of his hand. Desiring to be that man 

even more than being loved by him. Yet willing to

elope by convertible or train. His face unashamed 

and proud and strong.

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