I talk a lot about your mouth and the way it moves. 

I have to step between my balled-up underwear and a condom wrapper to go to the bathroom every morning when you’re already gone. 

Something about hating a person can make what they say so right and unacceptable. 

I slurp from the bottom of the cup. I make sure to get it all. I am getting older from here I am moving farther away I am not going to ever feel like this again. 

You taste so tangy and reverberate inside me. 

This is probably not appropriate, okay.

What else do I say, 

That things just aren’t working out? 

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