Life Story (I)
Preface:
The moon peeked one shoulder out to the south of the western horizon
The bay, not the ocean.
And the ocean was not the bay and I threatened myself with a hand down the pants and my breath slowed as if I were breathing through an apple and I remembered dinner and so many things, the silliness of dinner, the silliness of everything, my red short shorts, my red shorts.
1.
Terry cloth splattered with the pain of past lives, my first house when everyone came over and painted for pizza and beer
Slumber parties, letting it go letting it go
the ways I clean up after myself, the ways that I don’t
my finger between her boobs, candy hearts pressed together
celery between boobs autographed by Stormy Daniels
An auburn haired husband and the two guys next-door, one dog named Foley
mowing the lawn
my daughter says she almost forgot what lawnmowers look like
2.
The lion haired girl from whiskey river, chef pants and table cloths
bikes & roller skates & my Mercedes SUV
plus the shots, minus the shots, the shots may be taken all on their own staring into the sunset while he talked about his dog and I discounted everything
3.
The man who are stuck his wedding ring finger inside of me in the fourth street parking garage who drove all the way from Fredericksburg for me
just to unlace the breastplate shoelaces of my deliberately plaid schoolgirl dress
knee-high boots stacked on stacks on stacks of instability and proud of it, the arrogance of it, rightfully arrogant of it
I deserved everything and I knew I’d never get it.
4.
But I got something, I got everything I wanted
everything I ever wanted maybe is the opposite of anything
Thigh-high socks
smudging silver mirrors fogging up paper towel dispensers, dirt Collecting, fog collecting on them
the bathrooms in TGI Fridays and the white dress smashed in the middle with a sunflower that got me sent home for its length
and I changed, I had to change
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