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01 Nov
Maths taught me how to share my husband
prose // 0

When his mind is idle, he thinks of her. —What are you thinking about? —Maths. If he’s with her, he loses track of time. —So late to get home, why? —Maths. She wants long periods for herself. —Why are you going away for the weekend? —Maths. —Why are you going to Brazil, again? —Maths. She

01 Oct
I was a task, written and read by me
arte // 3

This poem is halfway between David Allen and Charles Bukowski.

03 Sep
You looked good
poetry // 0

You were cold I blamed you You were dead I blamed me You looked mute I felt deaf I blamed her Or was I deaf? You were gone No one to blame I was alone With you still there. I went back home And you looked The other way.


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