Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Who knows what lesson a lover may bring. Take Jack, who caressed my naked stomach and said, "My, I sure do love your fat little belly."
My fat belly? Surely I misheard. Surely he said, "Flat."
But later, bare-skinned before my mirror, I had to admit that my flat belly had mysteriously disappeared.
Like my once brown hair
Like my wisdom teeth
Like my days dissolving into decades.
from the author of
Tart Poems from the Sixties
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