Tuesday, November 5, 2019

Falsehood (a poem)

Here's a work in progress!





...
A pan is sizzling on the stove
Wine ready on the table
We joke and banter in attempted Southern accents
And it's all wrong.
He has a funny movie up on the TV
When I give in to the urge
And curl myself around his torso
In response, he slides his hands on my skin
It's a falsehood.
This is yet another person who can't and won't satisfy
A self-serving scratching post
Someone please explain how this pretense is worthwhile
Just because it's an experience, good or bad?!
What bullshit.

First written August 2, 2019.

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