Women like medo not know how to speak.A word remains in their throatslike a thornthey choose to swallow.
Give me your lies.I will wash themand tuck them inthe innocence of my heartto make them facts.
She said: YesI devoured him…I was hungrylike a man…And like a manI splayed him across my desiresblossoming with masculinity.
Old clothesfill her wardrobe,and childrencomein the eveningwith a loud dinand low test scores.A husband who abandoned her,and a lover who no longer hasthe time.
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