david foster wallace says…

We still have to learn about kindness and

to imagine that a man riding our ass in traffic has a dying child beside him,

because there is enough ugliness here already.

You didn’t think we should open the window but I wanted them out there to smell our smoke and hear

that I laugh with your lips on my fuzzy eyebrow.

We have a lot left to learn about thighs pressing in the dark.

A hot wet night leaves slick on our skins where they are touching and leaves

beads of sweat on my top lip; insects swim by outside and their buzz joins the noise

of the box air conditioner in the window; a harmony drone.

I left on a hotter night, stepping across a river of broken glass and smeared ketchup out into the

dark.

You were in the back room not asking me to stay.

Sometimes kindness is not enough or it is asking too much.

 

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