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Missed Connections


by Philip F. Clark


We were on the L train.
You were reading Fifty Shades of Gray;
I was reading One Hundred Years of Solitude. 
You never looked up until just as I moved off, 
always looking back your way and hoping
you would lift your head. 
And then you did, at the last moment,
but someone said, "Move it!" and I 
rushed off the train. I looked back 
to see your quizzical face looking at me.
There was no chance for a smile. 
Home, I wrote an ad on Craigslist's 
'Missed Connections'; describing you.
and I ended it with the usual: 
"If you see this and remember me,
get in touch." I decided to read 
the book you were reading. 
But it missed all the real 
accoutrements of S&M -- the way 
that people really master and slave 
each other. The way you don't need
strange black leather clothes,
and toys -- whips, paddles, and 
St. Andrew's crosses; the way instead
that one person obeys and the 
other commands. The daily rites
of loving someone you overpower,
who overpowers you. 
And as I read, I missed some things:
beautiful women rising to heaven;
young men being taken to see
ice for the first time.
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