jogging on the treadmill
awkward sweat welding my shirt to my spine
and my developing breasts which i am fighting so hard
bounching beneath my shirt
i wonder if the five women in the room
think of me as i think they do
a moist pig with his tongue hanging out
small black eyes on their hard calves and fresh necks
the way produce looks in the supermarket when it gets
sprayed
i wonder if they can smell me from across the room
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