Sunday, November 29, 2009

Two on One

The past, the ever present past.

Your tongue tethers me to my sins
like a baby fastened to the nipple
The sour milk of discontent

Mea culpa
mea culpa
mea maxima culpa.

Be forgiven and go to hell

On this failed husband's tombstone write:
He made her hate him
Pray reincarnation does not exist

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