She says it like this:

I took back your coal sweater.
You’re welcome.”

(Coal? What the fuck color is coal?)
“You mean that black one? Cabled?
Thanks love”

(Incidentally, there is no love.
She took that back also.)
“I’ll call Hop Sing.Can you

Go and get it?”
“Again? Okay… I guess.”
“Is that a yes?”

“Why won’t you like the clothes
I buy you?”

“I do my love. Just not on ME.
How about egg drop soup?
No. Sweet and sour this time.”

She is already out the door.
She knows I know.


About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s