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Two men alone in a locker room
I slip in light, on soccer feet
Unnoticed
For a brusque, wide legged mans piss
In a mans world
He has red hair, red blotches
He is no Leonardo and no athlete
And he is flexing a small hard lump
Of albino bicep
In the puny fluorescent mirror
Posing
I make much drama
With a noisy paper towel machine
And then I slide away
For some reason
More embarrassed than he.
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