by Stephanie M. Wytovich
I watched them together,
Watched them behind closed doors
Watched them in public, in private,
Watched them always
And part of me laughed at how awful they were
How she didn’t know his rhythms
How he couldn’t recognize her signs
But still
I was the one outside
And she was the one inside
In his bed
In his shower
In his heart
And I was doing something wrong
Something that I couldn’t figure out
Something that wasn’t good enough
That wasn’t strong enough
And Christ, she was doing it wrong again!
Her hands were in the wrong place
Her lips were too rough
He needed touched there
Need caressed there
And this was ludicrous
Because I was better
Better at pleasure
Better at pain
And yet I was the one outside
And she was the one inside
And I hated her for winning
Hated her for her imperfection
For her faults and her body
Her body that didn’t work
Her mind that wasn’t mine
And so I went home and I dyed my hair
Dyed it lighter then cut it off
I practiced her laugh
I memorized her smile
And I would become her
If that’s who he wanted
Someone less than he deserved
And I would be better at that, too
I would win
Win at being her
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