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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 23, 2016

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Submitted: November 23, 2016



It was all there
in the letter,
there in his
scribbled handwriting
like flyshit on paper.

She held the letter
and stared at it.

The words almost
jumped out at her.

The meanings
like daggers piercing
her heart and head.
The unfaithfulness
all there in
black and white.

Makes sense now,
those nights away.

That air he had
about him,
that dull,
yet anxiousness
in gesture
and manner.

So he was
bonking her,
that skinny bitch
at the office.

Now they've fled,
gone elsewhere
to settle down
as a pretend
Mr & Mrs.

Just his name,
no at the bottom

She watched
as her fingers shook;
the paper rattled
before her eyes.

Those nights away,
his lies.

Bet he thought
he could get away
with it,
the shit.

She folded up
the letter,
and tore it up
in two,
then in two again.

She placed it
in the garbage bin,
and let the lid drop
with a clang.

She imagined him
and her some place,
that skinny bitch,
that punched look
she had about her face,
the way she walked
with that wiggling

She thought about it,
what was in the letter,
his words, his lies,
and the sound
of buzzing flies.

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