Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The story starts
between one breath and another
and it has such terrible teeth
sinking into me, so hungry
with its carnivorous strength.
It beats like a fist on the door
a shaking fist of a man
who I have never seen cry.
Why he is crying now, I can't bear to know.
But I open the door anyway
he is standing there and I am afraid
that if I hide he will not go away.
That what he says will never go away.

It's a lie of course.
It cannot be a true thing.

We were going to be married in July.

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