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Saturday, June 30, 2012

Don't text me good-bye Molly, the breakup




 Don't text me good-bye Molly, the breakup

fiction
edward w pritchard



Don't text me Molly.

Listen to my voice mail and call me
or, come to the house.
Be mad at me,
slap my shoulder,
thump my chest with the back of your hand.
Pour my bottle of french Cognac down the drain again. 

Talk to me Molly, I want to hear your voice.
Use your small voice. Tell me how you feel.
I need to taste your smell again. 
Lock yourself in the bathroom again and cry.
Sit on the floor in the lotus position and bang the back of
the bathroom door with your fists again. 
Sleep all night in the car in a snow storm rather than come to our bed.  

Please don't text me  Molly:
Texting  is;
stealthful, premeditated, passionless , words over words, impersonal symbols, guileful phases, hidden feelings, logical darts to the heart. 
Come back to the house Molly. Lets argue. Throw things, put the baseball card collection on the curb again.  
Don't text me good-bye Molly,
Call me,

love bobbi




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