Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Pasta Letter

Dear Love,
        I call you Love, but I am no where close to loving you. I hate the way you wash your hair in the kitchen sink, over top of last night's dinner plates. You are beautiful when you sleep but when you awake, you are like a caged dragon, ferocious and lonely. I wish I could take away your pain. I see the way you put your lightening blue eye shadow on, as if to cover up everything in your brain, I can see it. I can see you, in the morning light, pulling on your stockings. I want to help you. I am so very hungry now, I've made a plate of pasta. Would you come home and join me, eat this pasta with me, I have made a plate or two for me and you. The wine is at room temperature just the way you like it. Love, you've done it again haven't you, washed your hair in the kitchen sink, over our dinner plates. This pasta taste just like you.
        Ever Warm, Yours.

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