Saturday, April 25, 2009


He had not showered. I think this is what made me close off. The idea that he was sitting with me with the scent of her still on him, that sickly sweet perfume. I had spilled out the acid of my jealousy till I was empty of it. There was no sting to me, just a sad tiredness knowing that the wonderful scent of him was cut with her juices, their easy togetherness clinging to his skin. Knowing she was good and I was bad and that this was the balance that had been stuck between us.

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