a break-up story.

He sat across from me, broken. Yes. He sat across from me, his spirit just as broken as his bloodied hand. I rose from the cushioned stools my-grandmother-with-dignity gave me and walked to the freezer for ice. I pulled the handle on the freezer door, stopped, considered the chilly state of things …and then preceded back to my marble counter- back to my man, back to my shit storm.
She came back from that freezer door lookin’ all gentle-like.  She looked like the first time I met her – soft and tender like love oughta look. But I aint fallin’ for that shit again. Nah, with time I have learned to call out a snake wrapped in diamon’ ribbons when I see one. Yeah she love ta’ slither and be pretty all right. She’ll strike ya’ when ya back turned. Mmm hmm, that’s a snake alrigh’.
I told him that it wasn’t intentional, that I just found something worth holding onto. My mind was battling for my attention. On one hand, I wrapped my million dollar- ivy league words around his head like a python preparing the prey. On the other, I wondered who would pay for the destructive hole in my periwinkle walls. He iced his hand and I told him about the man I was leaving him for. That night ... I helped ice his hand and his heart.

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