A date I'd been waiting for shows up the night before I worked it out with Rachel. Angie slipped through a crack in the backdoor. We made love on the bedroom floor. A platonic façade bursts its bubble with the name of a stupid love song, and the shedding of her clothes pokes holes in her conservative nature. A conservatorship would do her well. I wish until she tells me she loves me, if even for one day, please stay. Behind her oval green eyes, she is focused on getting in my pants, not for just one night, but for forever, as in to let me go, never.
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The Lonely Position of Neutral
PoetryBen's throat cancer has returned. Living a lonely life, he found a woman he loves but finds out she's been unfaithful. Ben starts to think the lonely position of neutral isn't that bad. He writes poems and dialogue narratives. Will Ben survive cance...
