today, i put on a robe
of red with pink
flowers at the bottom
in memory of our
fucked up fling.
ur daughter called me up
to say hi, wished me a happy
valentine's day (like i really cared),
and i told her that was sweet
of her, but... i had to be
on my way. i wasn't really
going anywhere, but she didn't
know that shit, and she wasn't
going to find out.
i don't wrap myself in
your old red towel,
or slip my feet in your
black house shoes. i've thrown
those things away.
u've got this permanent
spot on my rug from
my iron. i dropped it
the other day, and the
shape it made, looks just
like your screwed up face.
i haven't bought any chocolates,
haven't accepted any cards.
i barely answer my fone on this day,
and i owe it all to you.
mr. valentine. you are
the bullshit i hate the
most.

©Tremaine L. Loadholt



=========================
If there's a to
read, but it hasn't been written yet,
then you must write it. ©Toni Morrison