bopis

Already I have forgotten why I did not come. My excuse must have been all-important, whatever it was. Yes, significant. Else, why did I miss her cerveza negra hair? Why forgo the sheen that only my throat could see? One reason or another, I failed to come. Maybe she remembers? Maybe I told her, before or after the fact, hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t come, but did I say because? Would I inflict her with the irritation of things valid? Of course I am sure I apologized, one I’m sorry or other. That cannot be helped. Out of arrogance, absence wants to be noted. All words are things we wear to conceal our skins aging with thirst. We resort to the courtesy of exquisite masks. My thirst for her is a porcelain sigh.

Etiquetas: woman19