My ex-husband’s wife is a cunt.
She messages me
about appropriating my memories
in a collage in which she dreams
I never existed.
She finds it so fantastic
that she attended a bar in the ‘90’s
where her husband was dancing
in a cavernous Detroit Ramada Inn.
Do I have any pictures without him holding me,
she asks?
No. I don’t.
I took him there
on our first date
in December 1995.
But I do have some pictures
that she can’t erase me from…
That night he climbed into my bed
and begged me to mesh
nakedly together
as I snapped photos
and told him I would not be his excuse
to sabotage his relationship
with this woman.
Aaron says this is because I have standards.
I doubt she would see it that way.
But I will not surrender my memories
and she…
will never know.
Written by Jason Wright
January 10, 2018
Another poem originating from April 2017 scribblings on a train.
