i saw him with another woman
i sat on the carousel
they stood in the chip-truck line
i gripped a pole that grew out of fiberglass mane
the first round was just a physical closeness
the second circle, a flirtatious laugh
two-way
the third time, a furtive glance and a holding of hands
shooting up, sinking down
spinning spinning, round and round
recorded marching band music drags
i see the cotton candy in the puddle by their feet
the ride slows, stops
i step off
he is there to greet me
the same smile as ever
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