Unopened

October 3, 2010

My body overwhelmed and afterwards I cry fat grey tears onto his chest and the sheets. The way I almost remember, but even more. My mother hinted sympathy when she read that about me and you, about how I cried after we fucked because I loved you too much. Not that anyone would want to know that about her mother.

It’s not for effect. I can’t pin it down. His beauty just breaks my heart. The greedy stare I try to rein in.

The way he looks at me sometimes. It’s enough to give up.

But doesn’t this feel right, he said? And I didn’t admit it.

It is all at my feet, unopened, and you’d think it would be easy, just to kneel and pick it up.

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