leaving is not enough; you muststay gone. train your heart like a dog. change the lockseven on the house he’s nevervisited. you lucky, lucky girl. you have an apartment just your size. a bathtubfull of tea. a heart the size of Arizona, but not nearlyso arid. don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problemsare papier mache puppetsyou made or bought because the vendorat the market was so compelling you justhad to have them. you had to have him.and you did. and now you pull down the bridge between your houses,you make him call before he visits, you take a loverfor granted, you take a lover who looks at youlike maybe you are magic. makethe first bottle you consumein this place a relic. place it on whatever altar you fashionwith a knife and five cranberries.don’t lose too much weight.stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. and you are not stupid. you loved a manwith more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. heartlike a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas. heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.
Marty McConnell
frida-kahlo, love, passion