living in sin

was living underwater

every action slow protracted

feet stuck in glue

I knew she was unhappy

hell I was too

we were doing the bumpy thing

most days nights we could

so I was hoping

it wasn’t about that

we drove once 100 miles

without one word from her

& when your first love is language

Sartre had it right

hell is definitely others

we were sick for each other

& a life living miserable

was there

if we continued

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