Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Apricot Thong


If you are taking me back to the house
to meet your fiancée
I assume we’re beyond honesty
that we’re done with gazing into
one another’s eyes
and pouring out our hearts
and revealing our deepest
most intimate etceteras
Your dog greets us at the front door,
fiancée is in the kitchen,
both of them so happy to see you.
You lead me on a tour of the house,
his house, though it belongs to you
as well now, and I get to see
every room, even the bedroom,
which I merely peek into just long enough
to notice a thong the color of your flesh
-beige, or maybe apricot- twisted up
lying on the unmade bed
I tell you how nice the place is
I pet your dog and then
you drive me back
We don’t say much, you don’t
ask what I think of anything,
which is good, because
I want you to be happy, and I want
to convince myself you are
and we’re past the point of
having to tell one another
some truth which neither of us has
any use for anymore, which at this point
can only do us harm.

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