Sunday, February 19, 2012


The red neon numbers blare at me
as I stare at four dirty peach walls.
The sheets are half-pulled off the bed
and I am wearing your blue Eddie Bauer tee shirt
for the fifth day in a row.
It still smells like your Armani cologne
I sprayed on the collar
before I left lipstick kisses
on your bathroom mirror.

I sink into my six pillows
I have piled behind me
and wait for the phone to ring.

I just keep waiting.

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