Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Specter

I saw your ex-lover today.
Then I saw the mother of mine;
I turned tail; I looked away
both times.

I could not meet their eyes--
but I recognized his wiggle
from the backside;
red still blossomed about her nose,
so I looked down,
I ran away:
muttered to myself, I
smiled, and went on:

my insides boiled:
shame, rage:
I'm no longer at peace
today.

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