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A Conversation.

Mondays.

Mondays?

Mondays.

But I love Mondays.  They’re my day off.

 They’re MY day off.

They’re the first day.  The new day.  The start day.

The day that I make the decisions and make the groceries.

They are not your day or Tuesday,

or Wednesday, or Thursday, or Friday, or Saturday and Sunday.

They’re my new fun day.  My new balance day.  My just do it day.

The day when everything started and everything finished.

Mondays?

Mondays.

She doesn’t know me by now.

But she does know that I’ll keep giving myself to her until my skin tears away and all I have is frailty and bones.

The skin is starting to tear, my filthy insides are exposed and she doesn’t want me. She doesn’t like my structure.

She doesn’t know me by now. She doesn’t want to.

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