Across the table
you sink your teeth
into the purplish skin
of your past.

You found his profile
on plenty of fish
offering the pull of his lips;
your shoes in the background.

A row about the earring
you discovered in his car.

He held his head in his hands
and left his key on your dresser.

You turned over the mattress.

Your baby will never know
who her dad is.




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