misery women and me
she used to come
into my parent’s basement
with her little dresses and little smiles
she used to lay on top of me
her breath faint with pasta
and kiss me
and tell me that i was her husband
and that she was my wife
we’d stay like that for a while
her on top
two kids cuddling
quiet in the dark as the other kids played outside
our breath heavy in the stale summer air
that little brunette
my little bride of suburban pittsburgh
the only action that
i’d see
for at least ten years
full of misery women and me.
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