A tretina to start off the month. Took longer than I thought. No title yet.
Poem
Until you called me, the year wasn't over.
My dad in the ground, your good lay gone to Vegas,
your need to say we both had a loss.
I stayed quiet. You were never at a loss
of times taking space in my pew, time leftover
to track your man's move to Vegas.
Did he stop in Georgia en route to Vegas
to tap that MySpace girl, compounding your loss
of one night stand, unyielding pillow talk gone over
and over till he played Vegas odds, took the loss and ran.
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