In this ‘spoken word sestina’ with sexual, racial and social overtones, Agbabi plays with shifts of meaning as the speaker bears himself in a monologue
It’s not like you don’t turn me on.
Every time you walked past
I thought, She’s fit.
Come-to-bed eyes.
We both want to
feel my skin
'It’s not like you don’t turn me on,' he protests in answer to an unheard accusation, maybe an uneasy self accusation.
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