Gaslight
Tamyka Bell
9910

I do so love this poem! Desert dry humor that’s not supposed to be funny because it’s directed to something that was never funny to begin with. I too appreciate that you had him to run the show for you, thus eliminating the burden of having to recall when and how to push the ON button.

At the end, one thought came over me. ‘Does this female person KNOW how vibrant her spirit is, how sharp her intellect? Probably not, so, well, I’d best remind her.’ Sometimes a tattoo serves a practical end, Tamka: just put it on my Mastercard.

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