My first man left me

(a grammar lesson on the relationship between “love-able” and “leave-able”)

on a curb, weekend-bag packed

asleep, in a car, outside an unemployment office

in a ditch, beside the road, dust rising up behind the car like some dirty comment bubble

at the graveyard, next to an icy reservoir and an open grave

One Comment Add yours

  1. John's avatar John says:

    trash

    Like

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