Shame by C.K. Williams

A girl who, in 1971, when I was living by myself, painfully lonely, bereft, depressed,
offhandedly mentioned to me in a conversation with some friends that although at
first she’d found me—
I can’t remember the term, some dated colloquialism signifying odd, unacceptable,
she’d decided that I was after all all right … twelve years later she comes back to me
from nowhere
and I realize that it wasn’t my then irrepressible, unselective, incessant sexual want
she meant,
which, when we’d been introduced, I’d naturally aimed at her which she’d easily
but that she’d thought I really was, in myself, the way I looked and spoke and acted,
what she was saying, creepy, weird, whatever, and I am taken with a terrible

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