Ants In My Shower

April 27, 2012

Ants In My Shower

There were ants in my shower. Her in my bed. And the letter on the bedside. From my aunt Eunice. Happy Birthday. She’d gotten it all wrong. I didn’t want her there. I should have said something. Before she cried herself to sleep. Twelve months later.

There are cowards. And there are lovers. Who aren’t. Passing themselves off for their own conveniences. Her skin was so rough. I got a rash on my face. From her thighs. And there were pimples on her shoulder.

I didn’t like her smile. So I settled for the look. Of the top of her head. Her hair wasn’t blonde. But I couldn’t find the name. Of any other color.

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