the dirty mistress

Something about me must taunt these men. They lack the knowledge I know of myself, so I must be a vision to them. Messy blond hair and seductive eyes, I must be this youthful temptress. And it's possibly worse when they learn details. A nineteen year old virgin? Big red lips and a untouched body? Of course they couldn't be satisfied with their aging wives or controlling girlfriends. But really, what is it? What do I do to attract these men? And always the ones I am not interested in. Why couldn't the teacher I crave, with his delicious passion and vintage attitude, fall for me like these other men do? What do I have to do to get his attention? I sit in class and fantasize for fifty minutes of pushing him against the whiteboard, of him coming close and kissing my collarbone, of finding secret notes on the back of my assignments, telling me when and where to meet him. But nonetheless I am alone, alone with inappropriate not-so-secret admirers leaving me love notes, which will forever be without a response because I swim in a different dead sea.