With her head on my shoulder
fingers twiddling my chest hair
in the honesty of afterglow
she whispered
You’ll leave me soon
you don’t want a wife
you just want a toy
to pull off the shelf
when you’re lonely
Then feeling some fresh tension
grip my body she pecked my cheek
Don’t worry
I’ve known
since our first date
And as though she’d accused me
of lusting after her BFF
I proclaimed my devotion
both loudly and honestly
because I still felt that love
surge in my chest
when she smiled
But a few months later
I said good-bye
employing the cliché
it’s not you— it’s me
I’ve known
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in North Carolina. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
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Thank you for your submission, Bartholomew! Please continue to submit!
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Thank you for publishing Cassandra! I’ll be submitting again once I escape poem-a-day month.
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Wonderful! I can relate!
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Creative piece and oh how true these things certainly do happen. I really liked how you ended the piece.
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Thank you very much, Joni. Never date a prophetess!
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So true. Really enjoyed your piece. ❤️
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