Erotic PoetryAfter the FightWhile he stood at the podium,
Blustering about his dominance
I was able to keep decent notes.
But when I remembered
The table of his abs, the cable
Of his biceps, how he twisted
With each kick, then was I lost and
Left anguished by the stir
Between my legs.
I mean, God,
I even turned my press pass around,
As if anonymity somehow cloaked desire.
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