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The Day You Told Me You Fucked Her


by P.R. Mercado


I imagined you going at her in ferocious fucking--
O, O, O, O, O, O, O Immortal Glistening Cock,
    wrapped in latex, fat & hard--
over my Coke Zero and cheese cubes,
over the band that sang the Beatles. 

3AM: I will never forget this moment, 
where everything is, the way it smells
(cigarette smoke drying my face
like preserved meat)
the way I feel, the way you look. 
That piece of lint on your shirt,
an anchor to the memory.

I want to vomit, or die,
or die vomiting, whichever comes first.

I will always remember how you looked:
so beautiful you seemed removed
from the world, sitting outside it,
in bas relief, untouchable.
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