“That’s the problem,”
I said,
“You get everything figured out and think life has rules like algebra does,
but you never really know what you’re talking about.
You’re not even that fucking good at algebra.”
She came in through the bedroom door
with her shadow like the obscene curves that every woman has if you look too long,
and she asked me a question
while she stood there looking like a goddess or a piece of fruit or a grave
and she said,
“Sorry. What were you saying? I couldn’t hear.”
I told her that it did not matter, and that was the only time I ever told her the truth.
Before she opened my door, I did not know she was still in my house.
I do not know why I talk to myself so much,
But it would be harder to explain my motivation for talking to her.
I said,
“You get everything figured out and think life has rules like algebra does,
but you never really know what you’re talking about.
You’re not even that fucking good at algebra.”
She came in through the bedroom door
with her shadow like the obscene curves that every woman has if you look too long,
and she asked me a question
while she stood there looking like a goddess or a piece of fruit or a grave
and she said,
“Sorry. What were you saying? I couldn’t hear.”
I told her that it did not matter, and that was the only time I ever told her the truth.
Before she opened my door, I did not know she was still in my house.
I do not know why I talk to myself so much,
But it would be harder to explain my motivation for talking to her.
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