be what not is

I wanted to not, to isn’t.

Struggling next to her I said that I loved her. She leaned in, kissed me between the shoulder blades.

“I love your shoulders,” she said, through my shoulders.

“You can have them,” I said, I did not want them, “take them. Take my spine,” I said, “I’m not really using it. It is a pole holding up a lump.”

She softly slapped me on the neck and she called me an idiot. I was an idiot, apodeictically.

: 17 Oct 2008 18:42 |  Tags: Story |  Comments (0) |  Report a problem