Dear Significant Other

I love the idea of you more
than the reality of you.
Your wads of paper towels and
blobs of toothpaste in the sink
are accumulating behind my
breastbone, pretty soon they’ll
fill up my ribcage and smother
my lungs and I’ll hawk them up
– one by one –
harbingers of an altered mental
status and sparkling stainless steel.

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One thought on “Dear Significant Other

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