he is 5'7"
balding, late 30's
with a slight
pot belly.
he dislikes one night stands
and never kissed
his high school sweetheart.
he has a 5 o' clock shadow
a tendency to drink too much
and a regret
that the woman he loved
was not
the woman he married.

"i'm 6'2", he explains
to the listener from his office.
he hates his job, but stays late
feeling like there's nothing to come home to.
"i work out; i'm somewhat muscular.
i have brown hair
and a moustache. i enjoy theater
and wine tastings in the country.
i'm a deep kisser."

she is taller than most women
44, divorced mother of 3
wispy fly away hair
and a timid disposition.
she doesn't stand out
in crowds.
she enjoys sexual activity
but is afraid to admit
that she doesn't know what
an orgasm feels like.

"oh?" she responds softly
not wanting to wake up the children.
"i'm 5'6", slender, early 20's.
i have wavy blonde hair
and a love for art gallery openings.
my breasts are large and soft-
36 D's.
i turn heads everywhere i go
but i'm still looking
for someone special."

naked, they whisper together
late night phone line lust
he tells her of the big bulge
in his satin boxers; she murmurs
about the wet spot in her lacy thong.
together they sweat towards intimacy
chained together by spiraled wires
that not even the smallest germ
commitment or disappointment
can wiggle through.

when they finish
they each lie, and say "i love you"
before hanging up, and rushing into bed
trying to fall asleep
before they remember
who they are.

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