One of these stories
behaves like the other.
I was with my brother
in west Edmonton mall,
went off on my own
to a lingerie store,
bought you an outfit
that made my hands sweat
at the thought of you in it.
It stayed in the box for two years.
I went to Vegas with work,
indulging free whiskey and beer,
and vodka shots with the Russians
at 3 in the morning.
I called you just as
you were leaving for work.
I haven't been to bed,
I'm still drunk, I said
but hell, this is Vegas.
Fuck off you pig,
and you slammed down the phone.
One of these stories
behaves like the other.
I'm glad you decided to put it back in. Though you never have to post a poem if you don't want to, it builds your courage when you do. The more I post the more courageous I become. May you feel courageous in posting your poetry.
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