TWEETS TO KEEP

I’d left London despite him & because of him but at Christmas, I went back. It wasn’t a merry celebration but elegiac, a recognition of our chemistry of neediness playing itself out. His present, a sweater. Perhaps he wore it after I let him go.

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The subway dancers shuffle in, take the measure of the commuters & bare their abs. They they’re off to some rapper’s driving beat: somersaults, twirls, & acrobatics fit for the Olympics. When the doors open at Grand Central, a mistletoe kiss all around is the exit toll.

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New Year’s Day, the malicious light crawls along the rooftops then thrusts its finger thru gaps in blinds and curtains. It toys w/ brass knockers to get a rise out of them, & w/ a bray of triumph it hurls its full force at the glass & yells RISE & SHINE PARTY ANIMALS!

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Fretting about the Petrarchan sonnet’s dismemberment of the female body to praise its parts–ode to the hairy mole & so forth–I nominate knockers & jugs as some of the ugliest lady-parts words (excluding the nether regions, strictly off-limits at this hour).

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I’d not slept an entire night for years cuz hubs was a snore-store. Instead of Xmas decorating I looked up food murder: ground lightbulb, ineffective; mistletoe, iffy; rat poison, overdone. 2 birds, 1 stone. The carving knife and festive blood spatter.

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The bug in her autonomous car was, ironically, its reliability. Geez, she never wound up exploring off-road burgs w/ no misplaced wine bars, only dives for tossing back shots & making out not-so-nice w/ a tanned slab of beefcake in the john. SUZY BEEZER

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Miss Placed missed those earrings, her lost time from birth to 4 years of age, & love letters possibly not burned. Swathes of her history had mysteriously blanked until Miss Took moved in to share the rent & returned it all, even the taste & texture of Gerber plums.

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He extemporized cheesy rhymes to make me laugh, cuddled me like I deserved it, & gave me my first taste of love–the jigsaw fit to another person, the glory of never not adoring him. It was a late lightness of being but stored to this day in moonlight.

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