Scrittura
Published in

Scrittura

Turning Blue Myself

14 April 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: getting off work

Photo by Charles Deluvio on Unsplash

You gave me a nice little rub and tug right before I had to leave to clock in and sell my soul to a corporation who already sold theirs. I didn’t even finish and I was still late, so why didn’t we just finish anyway? Why does this place make me feel scared to be a few minutes late? I left you with your tempting eyes and your new solitude in the room, half naked, a hand…

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