the r word

Jamie Nelson

yeah, and when I look at you and think of the soft, soft babies I

never held, crying silently in

arms that never grew strong enough to hold them to a body held atop by

muscles that never had to push swathed in

special sheer dress pantyhose under a dress that I didn’t

want, that I didn’t wear,

under a canopy never erected above a wine bottle

never broken after

your fingers never brushed the soft skin

of my stomach that wasn’t bare,

before our lips which didn’t lock,

directly following the day

where our eyes never met…

yeah, I get a little pissed.