You bring out your best
in the company of others.
Beers and table manners, on
warm breezy evenings
by the beach. But you bring
out the bitch in me when I can't think
of anything other than how I want you
to tell me what I should do,
and you don't. Why can't you?
You tell me what I don't do
and what you do until we're both blue
in the face from fighting. I know you
because I chose you. Somehow
there was a lesson to learn, that
I must have
needed. Another page to be
written. Someday soon
when you explode it will blow out with a
ferocity that shakes the sleeping fish's,
eyes even wider open.
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