Friday, October 3, 2014
Louise
I often wonder. I wonder why you held my hand when I donated blood to people I didn't know. I probably wouldn't even like them if I did. You were gay. I was straight. It made things difficult. I was going to ask you to prom. You asked me why I drank so much. I said that I'd get sick if I didn't. You accepted that and never asked again. I wondered what you'd look like naked. I found out and was not disappointed. Your beauty, of course, went deeper than that. You hate the way you look. The perfect breasts that you left like a politician's flyer on my front porch. Your eyes could have gained you admission. Your soul's worth a million of mine. Mine's all smoke and booze. There are no mirrors here. They're all clouded over when I exhale. I wish it all would disappear. But magic acts lose popularity. People hate riddles that they can't solve. I've started reading The Book of Monelle. I'm drunk and I've started to cry.
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