Pointing The Finger

For two years I’ve been ice,

You’ve been a can of worms

My space,

In the dirt,

When I belong in the ocean

Your space,

Unlimited,

But I have to compromise for your cosmos

The woman was bare,  yet you couldn’t share me.

I’m not a dead woman,  I blink at the signs of bullshit

This pointing the finger business ters up my sheath

For two years,

I gave up my independence

All for uncircumcions in all forms of disdain

Your character is more than flawed

You may have loved me

in the beginning with an unweighted spoon

but a man shouldn’t bend a finger at me for his mistakes

You loved me fucking cold.

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