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Jan 2011 · 883
Her Momma Would be Ashamed
Pressure released
until the morning
When she opens her eyes
to different problems
Crawling across him to get out of bed
she looks in the mirror
Mascara under her eyes
And eyeliner smudged
Out to her temples
Asking
who is this person
Looking back to the bed
Is that me
She grimaces
at his open-mouth snoring.
Her momma would be ashamed.
She cleans her face
Brushes her teeth
Goes back to bed
Because the only people awake
At 6AM
Are the women just like her.
Laying her head on his chest
She comforts herself,
no one will know
Poor girl.
She doesn’t know
that by 2 in the afternoon
word will spread,
and everyone will know.
Jan 2011 · 560
Things to Do on Monday
I am shocked
by our audacity
that we love
like we want this
like we don’t control it.
Don’t you know?
These things end
just like they begin
in a burning flame
Like the one we’re lying in
here
breathing together
heartbeats competing.
Don’t worry, honey,
I can fix it,

you say,
I’ll put it on my list
of things to do
on Monday.

Don’t act like you don’t know
That come Monday
this flame will be out
and you won’t know my name.

— The End —