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A Four Letter Affair

Enthralled by each others anagrams

the barefaced lie

kissing french lips mindlessly

and pronouncing them so very properly

pencils in hand they fill in

the blacks and the whites

rising in the middle of the night

to go to the bathroom

or to the fridge for a drink

or empty the inbox

erasing clues to their deception


They met at the scrabble club

he told her he was getting divorced

she said she was forty nine

across the blanks and double letter squares

they eyed each other bifocally

she liked his blunt fingers and in between

turns imagined them sliding into her undies

which they did at four thirty

on that sticky afternoon


Gradually meet after meet they

came to recognize each other’s little idiosyncracies

the way they re-used four and seven letter words

running up the board across and down

until no space was left to evade what was becoming

as apparent as the way they moved

the tiles around and around

until the hidden words emerged

unpronounceable with no vowels

no communication

no interest

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© Johnmichael Simon



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