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?