if I sat at this table- pretended to be more of a person to you..I could give you longer revisions of the whole story. that I am a slut for the emotion of moving on, of being seduced...you wouldn't think of me as much, after you sold the furniture shop/you married me in all the Jewish ceremony. we broke glass. You thought you could meet any brown-haired girl who could love you more than me.

every time, you were right.
That my heritage made me a girl who could not hold love in her heart.
that it made me partial to literature. to counting steps, to counting words. To ignoring that you had needs and I had a soul made of earth.

I watered the plants after you left. I hoped to say that I couldn't love men, but I come back to
"rejoices"
rejoices....
to painting my face into smiling
no matter what real life calls on you to do.
To hold up a light in the darkness.
To pretend yourself a hippie with a candle.

I promise you I am alone with my horror movie dreams.
I promise I wish I had been a girl, with girl motives and girl romantics.
I promise I thought I'd grow up to be a girl.

what a simple word; the word no. And yet here I am, uttering it in all the language. Every language. Uttering I told you I am sorry. You should not have come near me, and I will take all the vindictive steps that you couldn't have guessed.

I wake in a sleeping bag.
I wake, a serious slumber party.
I wake by myself.