Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Stalked By My Own Husband

I thought no one was there but
he was in the dark kitchen star-
ing. Sometimes his soft carpet
footsteps stop just outside my
office. When we watch TV, he
faces me perpendicularly on a
settee. He follows me around
the house, not when we're out.
If he were a top it would make
more sense. It's like the prey
hunting the hunter. It might've
jived in other times, locations,
but it can't be "you'll spoil it by
talking" if there are eggs to fry,
decisions, household decisions.

"I am Tom's wife."

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