pink slipped and prideless

......

he pinked slipped our affair
hand up
there's nothing more to say, babe
babe.
i kissed his cold palm
until i was warm and hopeful

but he didn't want that anymore
didn't want me to blow my love
into his passion
my head filling his hand
eating his fingers one-at-a-time

so he squashed my stuff into
my golden tote coach bag
but i was never golden enough:
skinny. curly hair. softskullpress poet type.

now i share an apartment with a former bff
i turned her onto my ex and he took the blonde bait
he fucks her our futon, while she sucks altoids and
daydreams about winning project runway
he pays her tution, of course

on sunday evenings when he leaves
i feed her pasta and wine her to sleep
then slip beside her
and make love to his scent on her skin
later, i call his cell and droll over his voice

until his tenor seeps inside my flesh,

just enough for me to stay in love.

.......