Even the two boxes of creamy coconut Popsicles do not make me happy. I
could line the Popsicles up on the
living room floor, all around my stretched-out, stomach-down body,
and I would still feel surrounded by nothing. |
Where is the touch that melts?
Tano slurps on a Popsicle on the sofa, sulking because I told him I feel lonely. He gets sad when I feel lonely but he didn't think of that when I said, "I feel scared when you're passive-aggressive to other people," and he said, "I don't want to debate with you whether I'm mean or not." I said, "When I tell you my feelings it is not an invitation to debate."
But who cares? Now I have enough money to leave him and all I'm doing is buying expensive Popsicles.
I buy the kind that are so creamy they don't get totally hard. Tano buys the cheapo Kool-Aid flavored ones that get so hard they're probably bad for your teeth. We don't share. People who don't share bread and milk of course do not share Popsicles. Tano said he borrowed four stamps from me and do I want one of his Popsicles so that we're even. I told him his Popsicle is worth one stamp.
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