Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

The almost-fight you got pulled into on the street
The olives and hot peppers and garlic on Archie’s pizza
The bar with the dog and all the words inside
The T-shirt and the snacks
The Saturday eggs and coffee
The cats outside the window
The chocolate factory surprise
The stores with the trinkets
The grocery investigations
The plant place and your new cacti
The pie making collaboration
The sushi and movie theater bar with your friends
The lazy Sunday
The Bowie art exhibit
The Sweetgreen stop
The chocolate pretzel milkshake
The return to lazy Sunday
The introduction to Ellen Ripley
The chef’s table awe and travel planning
The ride to the bus station
The Russian rapper Timati
The holding and kissing and grabbing and patting, the laughing, the alignment, the dancing:

I love all the things that you gave me.

(February 2018)


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There was only one toilet, and there were two of us. We tried to dance around it, and we tried to be strong. In the end, we had no chance: someone was going to have to shit in the tub.

I cried after my 6th bout of diarrhea, and he kept making jokes after he puked out everything in his stomach. Really good jokes with impeccable timing.

He sleeps on the twin bed pushed next to mine now, not even snoring a little. I eat a packaged croissant quietly and slowly. I have never loved him more.

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She clicked on the radio, and it wasn’t there.  She waited.  She waited for the one that would finally tell them about  her lovers since November, those moments of panic that rose while he slept with her hand on his stomach, that morning when a thunderstorm flew into the country and blew a gust across the sheets and scattered her lists and movie stubs  across the desk and carpeted floor.

She clicked off the radio and opened the desk drawer too far. It clacked against the bones of her knees. She felt it in her spine. The photos and pens and sticky notes were all in their places and as the sun was going down, she clicked on the lamp beside her bed. Waiting out those glimpses of fear, hoping the lamp would help, turning it off again to feel it swell in her belly.

She built up the pillows against her sides, but her neck was twisted and shoulders tight.  The hum of the fan recounted weight sharing, the fall day when the milk was returned to the pantry and the cereal to  the fridge, smooth skin, wetness on her cheeks, a voice’s hoarse laugh after 7 hours of singing in a silver Toyota, remembering she’s forgotten to miss her.  Her body could not fit any better here, but she couldn’t sleep without them knowing all of this.

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