You were my first, you know,
but I wasn't good enough.
You went out looking for yourself:
travelled the world, came back,
...changed...
said how much you hated me...
because I have changed?
How clever you are:
gone digging in other folks' gardens,
just to find my grave.
Sorry I don't have a body or
something for you to bury.
But you've gotten so clever,
finding things that don't belong to you.
Religions. Cultures.
Other men's husbands.
Maybe if you go away,
you can find something,
to put in that grave you found,
or up your ass.
-o0o-
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