Poetry

Congratulations

to me when someone who hurt me writes asking how he might make

amends. Delighted by the idea that I am being vindicated, I agree

to meet, noting the face I knew looks younger as he reads a catalog

 

of harms against me, most of which I have not been aware of, beyond,

yes, his periodic yelling or threatening, the marring of my home. Power

sifts between us as our bodies, too, shift. Item: he lied in rants to

 

damage my career. Item: at a party he grimaced and gestured to embarrass

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